Plot Details: This opinion reveals major details about the movie's plot.

Watching this sparkling production of W A Mozart’s ‘Le nozze di Figaro’ (a.k.a. ‘The Marriage of Figaro’), those three hours zip by so quickly as you chuckle, chortle and convulse at the hilarious and witty events unfolding onstage. This 1994 live performance at the Glyndebourne Festival really stands out for its fine direction and acting, by a cast who are largely perfect in their respective roles. It distinguishes itself from Peter Hall’s much-lauded, elegant (though more stodgy) version from 1973 (with Kiri Te Kanawa, also performed at Glyndebourne) for its more fluid movement and action. I’d recommend this newer but still traditional staging over that one, especially for younger audiences weaned on the hyperkinetic madness of MTV.


THE CAST

( Character, age (description) --- Singer [voice] )

Count Almaviva, 26 (aristocratic lord) --- Andreas Schmidt [bass-baritone]
Countess Almaviva (Rosina), 19 (married to the Count for 3 years now) --- Renée Fleming [soprano]
Susanna, 19 (a chambermaid, Rosina’s confidante, about to be wed to Figaro) --- Alison Hagley [soprano]
Figaro, about 28 (valet to the Count, formerly the barber of Seville) --- Gerald Finley [baritone]
Cherubino, 12-13 (a young page in Almaviva's castle) --- Marie-Ange Todorovitch [mezzo-soprano]
Marcellina , 50s (Bartolo's old housekeeper and formerly Rosina's governess) --- Wendy Hillhouse [mezzo-soprano]
Don Bartolo, at least 60 (medical doctor, former guardian and suitor of Rosina) --- Mandred Röhrl [bass]
Don Basilio, late 40s (singing teacher of Susanna, previously of Rosina) --- Robert Tear [tenor]
Don Curzio, a judge --- John Graham-Hall [tenor]
Barbarina, 12 (a peasant girl, Antonio's daughter, Susanna's cousin; wishes to marry Cherubino) --- Susan Gritton [soprano]
Antonio, 30s or 40s (the gardener; Barbarina's father) --- Donald Adams [bass]


PLOT

Based on the second part of the Beaumarchais trilogy and made more politically acceptable by librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte, ‘Le nozze di Figaro’ is a funny and witty sequel to Rossini’s ‘Il Barbiere di Siviglia’ (‘The Barber of Seville’), which is based on the first part of the trilogy (although Rossini’s opera came 30 years after Mozart’s).

Figaro, the eponymous barber, has given up his trade and is now a valet to Count Almaviva. The Count has taken Figaro into his service as thanks for helping him win the hand of Rosina, now his wife (the Countess). In ‘Le nozze’, Figaro is about to wed his love, Susanna, but complications beset the pending union. Marcellina files a suit asking Figaro to fulfil his pledge made earlier to marry her if he couldn’t repay the two thousand gold pieces she loaned him. Old Dr Bartolo, Rosina’s former guardian and suitor, still resents Figaro for helping the Count be wed to his former ward and thus fully supports Marcellina’s suit. Even after marrying Rosina, the Count hasn’t given up his womanising, and now wants to restore the ‘droit de seigneur’, which grants a lord the privilege of bedding a maid in his household on her wedding night before her husband can do so. Although Almaviva had discontinued the practice after marrying the Countess, he thinks it’s the only way he can have the bride-to-be Susanna, who fills his lusty thoughts of late. Figaro must figure out a way to avoid Marcellina’s legal claim while also preventing the Count from carrying out his dastardly plan to bed Susanna.

Just to complicate matters more, there’s also the lovesick and reckless young page whom everyone in the castle – except for the Count – finds a charming pest: Cherubino. The boy wreaks merry havoc in the household by courting every woman in it. He pines most of all for the unattainable Countess, who’s also his godmother. Likely to be a bastard son of the Count from some previous fling, Cherubino is given a commission in his army by Almaviva in order to be rid of him, but instead of leaving for Seville, the page sticks around (not entirely through his own fault) to cause further diversionary amusement and confusion.

Susanna, Figaro and the Countess will all connive to set a trap for the Count, working for a common purpose - to expose Almaviva’s potential infidelity through a trick of switched identities, thus causing his public humiliation. However, even Figaro himself gets fooled by the disguises, adding another humourous twist to the events. Midway through the tale, there’s also a surprising (and incredibly coincidental) revelation as regards the true parentage of Figaro, who only knows he was stolen from his parents as a baby.

In Act IV’s finale, the jealous Count is finally made humble for his philandering folly, but is forgiven by the kindly Countess, as expressed so beautifully in that brief but heavenly sequence, Contessa, perdono!. Figaro is put right about Susanna’s supposed infidelity, and everyone comes out of the romantic misadventures happy and content.

A MOST FELICITOUS COMBINATION OF CAST, SINGING, DIRECTION, ACTING

I’ve rarely seen such a felicitous combination of cast, singing, direction and acting in opera as this. Although the Region 1 (US-Canada) DVD case features a photograph only of Renée Fleming on the front cover (see Eps pic above), to my mind the real star of the show is British soprano Alison Hagley, who plays Susanna. Blessed with a naturalistic acting style, Ms Hagley glides with ease through her many paces, effortlessly warbling in a delicate and crystalline soprano as she expresses Susanna’s thoughts and emotions with convincing sincerity. Of the dramatic personae, I like Susanna the best, as she happens to be a very smart, wise and also tempestuous woman, and Ms Hagley perfectly evokes the character’s appealing temperament.

Canadian Gerald Finley as Figaro is Ms Hagley’s equal and partner, and the pairing makes for a most charming couple. Possessed of a pleasing, light and clear baritone, Mr Finley is also unusually tall, attractive and athletic for an opera singer – he nimbly leaps about the stage and clicks his heels, and recovers swiftly from a couple of stage tumbles. His Figaro stays true to the character, played as an easygoing, quick-thinking fellow with an endearingly boyish love for Susanna. Yet he can be as excitable as any vain male when he sniffs the merest hint of infidelity in his bride-to-be.

German bass-baritone Andreas Schmidt seems born to play Count Almaviva. His Count bears his Don Juanesque character and rich costumes with a sense of entitlement and aristocratic arrogance, reflected in a deeper voice more bombastic than Figaro’s. His naughty eyebrows arch sharply above a pair of piercing, suspicious eyes that always seem preoccupied with chasing skirts – and this time it’s Susanna who has caught his fancy. Like the ‘modern male’ that the Countess describes to Susanna, the Count sees no contradiction between his own abominable behaviour and his anger at the Countess’s alleged unfaithfulness. Keeping true to the light tone of the play, his expressed outrage over the matter seems merely comical and inoffensive rather than frightening. In a bit of visual humour, he dons a deep green hunting coat in the scene in which he’s wholly consumed by the green-eyed monster, swearing to expose the Countess’s secret lover who’s supposedly hiding in her closet.

As the Countess, American soprano Renée Fleming brings grace and delicacy to the part, and her tight vibrato adds some tension to the role. While she does a creditable job with those famous and difficult arias of the Countess, I find that her singing volume can sometimes be uneven. Her Dove sono i bei momenti aria in Act III is taken too slowly for my liking, but then again, Dame Kiri Te Kanawa’s fabulous turn as the Countess in the 70s and early 80s is nearly impossible to beat.

The ‘breeches’ part of Cherubino (which Frederica von Stade owned for the longest time) is taken up with verve by French mezzo-soprano Marie-Ange Todorovitch. Her darkish, smooth and steely mezzo can be so powerful as to fill the opera house like you wouldn’t believe your ears. The page’s mischievous, innocent nature radiates from Ms Todorovitch’s playful and winning portrayal, which I think beats Ms von Stade’s by a mile.

American Wendy Hillhouse’s mature, rich, mezzo-soprano gives Marcellina a more maternal sound, while German bass-baritone Mandred Röhrl as Bartolo can get a bit shaky in the low notes. English soprano Susan Gritton convincingly embodies the simple-mindedness of Barbarina, who wants only to marry Cherubino, while the late English bass-baritone Donald Adams would have been quite right as her father, Antonio, except for that niggling diction problem of his (see later). Welsh tenor Robert Tear as the officious Don Basilio looks awfully old and creaky in that ratty hair and grey makeup, but (as with fellow tenor John Graham-Hall in the small role of Don Curzio) he does his part decently enough.

Thanks to Stephen Medcalf’s astute guidance, the play’s onstage action – which includes many instances of physical and visual humour – remains engaging, brisk and smooth-flowing throughout, avoiding any awkward gaps and silences. The sequence of some scenes in Act III has been rearranged, without harm to the tale. Most important for the DVD is Derek Bailey’s smart direction of the video recording, which gives the viewer the best vantage points in nearly every scene.

THE SETS

John Gunter’s airy and mobile sets are neither ostentatious nor minimalist. The singers make full use of the props and space, moving between, around and onto pieces of furniture with a clear dramatic purpose. In a different and funny take on Scene 3 of Act II, Susanna (whom the Almavivas don’t see, as they’re busy arguing about the locked closet) has to duck under the bed, and stick her head out from under the bedskirt to sing the trio with the Count and the Countess!

The Count’s library is an impressive but simple affair of two, very tall, nine-shelf bookcases that are completely filled with perhaps several hundred to a thousand, uniformly white paper-covered dummy books of various sizes. The two bookcases slide apart on tracks to reveal the set behind for the next scene.

The amusing incidents of mistaken identities in Act IV take place in the garden at night, and a bank of very tall trees with gently curving trunks create a three-dimensional space on the stage. A deep navy blue light that turns to a soft red at the top bathes the entire set-up. Little lanterns carried by the singers illuminate the stage action. The finale’s climactic moment is heightened by this effective yet simple design and lighting. When the Count begins singing, Contessa, perdono!, stage kliegs come on to gently highlight the Count, now humbled and on his knee, and the Countess standing before him, generously forgiving him his sins, in one of the most moving musical moments in opera.

MINOR FAULTS: DICTION, HAITINK, ENGLISH SUBTITLES

A few small details very slightly mar this otherwise perfect version, but still fail to detract from one’s full enjoyment of the opera. Regarding the non-Italian cast’s singing of the Italian libretto, no one else rankled as much as Donald Adams (as Antonio) did – for his blatant, anglicised enunciation of the lyrics – saying things like cappello (hat) as ‘kah-pehl-low’. The rest of the cast at least bothered to do their homework and sang with a more convincing Italian diction.

Conductor Bernard Haitink draws out the very best in Mozart’s music from the London Philharmonic players, but he sometimes has little consideration for his singers. I can’t think why, but he tends to leave them behind, especially in certain rapid passages in Act II’s ensemble scenes.

The DVD itself can get a little exasperating when it comes to its sparing use of English subtitles. There are large gaps without any subtitles, most noticeable in Act II, a phenomenon that seems to plague quite a number of these new opera DVDs. So if you’re not intimately familiar with the libretto (and don’t have it to hand), you’ll be left guessing as to what the heck they’re all screaming… er, singing about.

FINALLY…

With all that said, this production remains as one of the most enjoyable live opera stagings I’ve seen to date. Novices to the world of opera will surely enjoy this vivacious rendering of this opera buffa, blessed as it is with such excellence in all departments. And Mozart’s music, while not equal to the abundant, beautiful ensemble singing of his ‘Così fan tutte’, is still a delight to the ears and the spirit. Trust me – five minutes into the play and you’ll have forgotten you were even watching an opera – it just turns into another fine social comedy set incidentally to some grandly written music – and that to me is the best test of a successful production.

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(Go listen to Contessa, perdono!, a soaring choral piece both majestic and heartbreaking – by clicking on link for 'LE NOZZE DI FIGARO' in the Musical Links on my Profile Page to see and hear an excerpt from an older production.)

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DVD Notes:

W. A. MOZART

LE NOZZE DI FIGARO
Opera in Four Acts

Runtime: 180 mins
Subtitles available: English, French, Spanish, Japanese
Full screen 4:3
Audio: Dolby Digital Stereo/5.1 Dolby Surround
Released September 16, 2003
KULTUR VIDEO
[c] 1994

List Price $29.99


Recommended: Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older