I have just heard that one of my favorite sopranos, the great Renata Scotto, has passed away. She was a staple of my growing up, and there are some operas (Suor Angelica, Otello, Manon Lescaut, among others) that I just can't imagine without her voice.
Thank you for a legacy of fantastic opera performances and recordings. R.I.P.
It was great sadness I heard of Dmitri Hvorostovsky's passing. It is not entirely unexpected, as he has been battling brain cancer, but it is devastating news. We were still hoping he'd find a way to beat it. He was a delightful baritone to watch in the Met broadcasts. The last performance I saw him in was in Il Trovatore, and he was great in that. My condolences to his family, colleagues, and opera fans around the world who will sorely miss him.
Last Wednesday, my sister and I went to see opera tenor Joseph Calleja in concert. He has been one of our favorite tenors for years now, and we could not pass up the opportunity to hear him live. It was a fabulous evening! He was in fine voice, and the program was a good one for us. Normally, the concerts we've seen at this venue have piano accompaniment, but he had an orchestra. The first half was opera arias, and all ones we love. The second half was Italian songs. There were five encore songs as well, and thunderous applause from the audience for all of it.
And one of the neatest parts of the evening was that the concert was a tribute to Mario Lanza. And who was in the audience? Mario Lanza's daughter and three other members of his family! That was pretty amazing.
It was a great evening for two opera lovers!
(one of my favorite arias, which he sang live for us)
I discovered Eugene Onegin, Alexander Pushkin's novel in verse via opera. A few years back, my sister and I went to see the Royal Opera house's version broadcast in our local movie theater. My parents were so very Italian/French opera oriented growing up, that even though Tchaikovsky is one of my dad's all-time favorite composers, we somehow had never listened to Eugene Onegin, other than the famous instrumental portions. Our introduction in 2013 was with a magnificent version staring a first-rate cast: Krassimira Stoyanova as Tatyana, Pavol Breslik as Lensky, and my beloved Simon Keenlyside as Onegin. My sister and I fell in love with the opera. The music was exquisite, the characters oh-so-relatable, and the love story sucked us in with surprising power.
I promptly bought a translation of the novel to read.
And then the Met performed Onegin shortly thereafter released in the theaters as well on one of their HD broadcasts with another first rate cast: Anna Netrebko as Tatyana, Piotr Beczala as Lensky, and Mariusz Kwiecien as Onegin. Kwiecien is my sister's favorite baritone, much as Keenlyside is mine. Both versions are fabulous, and I'm not sure which one I'd rather watch. We each own our respective baritone's version on DVD, naturally, though it's often a coin toss that determines which version we watch.
And then we found a movie version starring Ralph Fiennes as Onegin, Liv Tyler as Tatyana, Toby Stevens as Lensky. And this version was equally as fabulous, just no singing this time. But it captured everything so well, and because it's a movie, it has beautiful scenery, etc. The movie version also ended up being more emotional for us than the opera! This is all because of Ralph Fiennes. The duel scene... holy smoke, the duel scene. Fiennes put both of us in tears in that scene, where the opera versions just made us make sad faces at that point. And it's not like either opera version wasn't moving, but the movie? Wow. Emotionally, this movie totally nailed that scene.
Spoilers!
The basic plot follows a young bored nobleman (Onegin) who takes up residence in the country and becomes friends with a nice young poet, Lensky. Lensky takes Onegin to meet his girlfriend, Olga, whose older sister, Tatyana, falls hard for Onegin. She writes him a letter, pouring out her heart to him... and gets politely but firmly rejected and dismissed. (This can be coldly done in some versions, but it's such an intriguing scene cuz Onegin is just brutally honest about their chances of happiness, he's not being deliberately cruel. I'm endlessly fascinated by this story.) Tatyana is, of course, devastated and crushed. At her name day celebration, Onegin (now being a troublemaker) flirts with Olga and ends up causing Lensky to challenge him to a duel. This does not go well, and Onegin is forced to kill Lensky. He runs away for a few years, and when he returns to St. Petersburg and attends a ball, he sees the most beautiful woman... and then realizes it is Tatyana, no longer a young country girl, but the elegant wife of the prince. Now it's his turn to fall hard, his turn to write her love letters... which she rejects. When they finally meet, she tells him it's too late, she's married now and won't leave her husband, even though she really does still loves Onegin. And he is left lost, bitter, and full of regrets. (Or as we good-naturedly like to translate his last line of the opera: "My life sucks!" Which is actually a fair line for many an opera character to use as the curtain falls.)
Ralph Fiennes plays a perfect Onegin. Bored, dissolute, but caring under it all. And Liv Tyler is so lovely and dreamy, with her romantic ideals and her constant books. They make a good pairing for this version, well-matched.
(Love this shot of Tatyana sneaking away to find privacy and read books in a row boat. I would do that.)
Eugene Onegin has helped my sister and I introduce multiple people to opera, several of which have become great fans not just of this opera, but of other operas we've shown them. How cool is that?
Here's my favorite scene in the opera, this from the Met's HD version with Mariusz and Piotr. This is where their friendship unravels, and the challenge is issued for the duel. I love the part that starts 6:00 minutes in, where the challenge for the duel is accepted, and the two have a bit of a brawl. I will often watch this clip on youtube, then switch over and watch the same scene, but the Keenlyside/Breslik version, cuz they have a more enthusiastic mini-brawl with some wrecking of furniture. But that one doesn't have subtitles, and this one does, so... here's the conclusion of act 2 scene 1.
Wooo! Autumn is my favorite season for many, many reasons. One of those reasons is that the Met's opera season starts up again. This gives me both the Saturday morning radio broadcasts AND the live in cinema program to look forward to. Last night was the encore viewing of the first HD performance of the 2015-16 season, of Verdi's Il Trovatore. (They play the live transmission on Saturday, with an encore the following Wed.) I so love the Met's HD theater showings. Since I can't get to New York, this gives me the opportunity to see their performances right in my own backyard.
This is actually the second time I've seen Il Trovatore in HD from the Met. The first was in the 2011 season (wow, has it really been that long already?)
Il Trovatore was one of my dad's favorite operas, but we didn't actually listen to it that much when I was growing up, other than the famous arias. However, I've always been entranced by the story. It was in my opera book, and I read it over and over. It's a crazy, horrific, awesome, this-could-only-happen-in-opera plot. There was a funny part in one of the intermission interviews last night about how hard it is to explain the plot of Il Trovatore. Nonsense! Il Trovatore isn't hard. Don Carlo, now that one's confusing. Well, the ending anyway. I still haven't actually figured out what really happens at the end of that one. But Il Trovatore is straight-forward enough.
See... here's how easy it is to tell the story to Il Trovatore:
The opera opens with characters telling stories to fill in all the backstory. Cuz it's a humdinger of a backstory and the whole rest of the opera depends on catching up to speed on a bit of history. You see, there was a Count who had two sons. The youngest was paid a surprise night0-time visit by a gypsy, who only wanted to tell his fortune. However, the boy sickened and naturally, the Count freaked out and believed the gypsy put a curse on his son. So, he had her arrested and burned at the stake as a witch. The gypsy's last words were to command her daughter to avenge her death. The daughter (Azucena) kidnaps the Count's youngest son, takes him to where her mother was burned, and throws the boy in the remains of the fire. Only she doesn't. She's so distraught over it all that she throws her own son in the fire instead! Egads! She then disappears into the hills with the Count's youngest son and raises him as her own. The old Count believing his son is still alive, tasks the older son with finding his lost brother.
And that's the past history. Now, when the opera takes place, the youngest son has grown up to be Manrico, gypsy rebel and troubadour, in love with Leonora. The older brother, now the Count himself, is also in love with Leonora (naturally), and the two are bitter, deadly rivals. When both show up at the same time to meet Leonora, they draw swords and try very hard to kill each other (but off-stage, darn it all), and Manrico is badly wounded. Thinking he's dead, Leonora takes Opera Door Number Three for distraught heroines: join a convent. (The first two doors are, of course: 1) go mad, or 2) kill yourself. Both happen with alarming regularity.) Count di Luna says, no way, that ain't happening on my watch, and sets out with his men to kidnap her before she takes her vows. Always a surefire way to get a woman who hates you and who thinks you killed her beloved to fall in love with you. His kidnapping fails when Manrico and his men break in and rescue her. Manrico can't bring himself to kill di Luna, but he doesn't know why he hesitates. ("Why did he hesitate?" Random Tony Curtis quote from The Vikings, which features a similar plot with brothers unknown to each other in love with the same woman.) He and the gypsies take Leonora and split.
The two reunited lovers plan to marry immediately, except poor Azucena gets taken prisoner by di Luna, who realizes she's the one who "killed" his brother, and he intends to burn her at the stake. Manrico finds out and calls all the gypsies to arms in one of the most magnificent rousing arias ever written (di quella pira), and he abandons Leonora and races off to rescue mom. Except he fails and gets captured by di Luna instead. (once again, off-stage, darn it all... all the good action and sword fights and battles happen off-stage in this opera.) Mom and son are scheduled to be executed. In exchange for Manrico's freedom, Leonora swears to marry and love di Luna, who agrees quite enthusiastically to this plan. The minute he turns his back though... she drinks poison. As you do, of course, when you can't marry your beloved and are stuck for the rest of our life with his hated enemy instead. Right? Door number 2 is a very popular door for sopranos in opera.
Manrico berates her for giving herself to di Luna for his sake, but then she dies in his arms, and he forgives her. Di Luna comes in and finds everything's fallen completely to pieces, so he orders Manrico executed on the spot. And as soon as he's been killed, Azucena tells di Luna the terrible truth: "He was your brother!" Di Luna stares at her horrified, and Azucena cries out that at last, her mother is avenged! End opera.
See? That wasn't hard to tell. And now you know the Crazy! Spectacular! plot to Il Trovatore (which means The Troubadour in Italian, for those curious). It's an opera filled with a lot of beautiful music, and some very famous arias and choruses, like the Anvil Chorus. (And more than one chicken song that no one ever can make less chicken-y. Don't ask. Family joke. Doesn't actually detract from the opera.)
So, my sister and I had a great time Wed night. Same production we saw in 2011, most of the cast was even the same, but there was a different tenor and soprano. We both liked this version better, though the other was quite fine too. But where the other one felt a wee bit cheesy, this version didn't have any cheese. It just sucked us into the craziness, made us care about all the characters, and sold us on the story hook, line, and sinker. I got goosebumps at Azucena's last line. Everything just worked. And unfortunately, because they released the first one on DVD, this one probably won't be released, which is too bad, as we both want to watch it again.
This production has a revolving set, so it keeps things moving quite quickly. There's a huge staircase that always freaks my sister out when people go up and down it.
Dolora Zajick sings Azucena and she's the best part of the whole production. Her voice is amazing. And in her portrayal of the character, her mother and son's death has driven her a bit around the bend. She's at turns tormented, loving, sad, and defiant. And really, this story turns entirely on Azucena, and her anguish at what she's done gave this version a quite tragic angle that just made everything else work.
Stefan Kocan has a supporting role as Ferrando, Count di Luna's lieutenant, and he was one of the main reasons my sister and I went to catch this performance. We've had the pleasure of seeing him live twice, in Don Giovanni and Aida, as well as catching him in several other opera broadcasts. He's a singer we're always watching for. Great voice, and he's smoking hot besides. He was looking particularly fine last night. ("The salted pork is par-ti-cularly fine." Pippin, Return of the King. For some reason this post not about movies is making me quote movies.) He sings one of my favorite arias in this opera, the opening of Act 1 where he tells the story of the gypsy.
Anna Netrebko played Leonora, and she's always a pleasure to watch and listen to. The tenor, Yonghoon Lee, was one I've heard in a couple previous Met broadcasts but never seen. He was very solid in the role, with a nice voice.
Dmitri Hvorostovsky sings Count di Luna (which is just one of the best names ever.). He's always solid. His appearance in this broadcast was particularly special, as he was diagnosed earlier this year with a brain tumor. Fortunately, treatment appears to have been successful, and this was his first time back on stage. He received a standing ovation when he first walked on stage, and everyone in our movie theater clapped as well. It's always so cool to be in a movie theater and have opera lovers treat the experience as if they were actually at the Met. He was quite adorable in their mid-intermission interview section, when he was thanking people and saying hi to family back home. I wish him many more healthy years of singing! We had the opportunity to hear him in a concert at the LA Opera earlier this year... and we didn't go. Why didn't we go? What were we possibly thinking? Or not thinking? ("Why?" "What for?" "Shut up and watch." Dirty Dozen quote.)
All in all, it was a great way to start the Met HD season, and I'm looking forward to several more operas on their schedule this year.
And here's the famous tenor aria, Di quella pira, sung by Franco Corelli. My sister and I put on various versions of this aria whenever we need to get ourselves roused up. It's very stirring. I'm ready to go rescue somebody, anybody, by the time it's done! (We're even such dorks we have an audio version with just orchestra and chorus, where we can provide the tenor line ourselves, if so inclined. It's great fun. Like opera karaoke, I guess! Although only ever sung at home. Or in the car. Cars are quite good for singing. Yes.)
Okay, and that's the end of this (very long) opera post for today!
Hamlette tagged me for this on her blog. The tag is to list 10 of your favorite fictional movie or television series characters. Of course, that was so open-ended, I had way more than ten favorite characters. So, I started categorizing those favorites, and... it got out of control. I love way too many characters! And with Hobbit/Lord of the Rings still on my mind, the lists were kind of... boring and familiar.
Instead of current favorites or all-time favorites, I'm selecting the most reasonable of my various sub-categories, because it had exactly ten people in it. Convenient!
So, these are my ten favorite screen characters who have also influenced me and/or changed my life, in both big and small ways. Sometimes a character simply teaches me more about myself. But yes, I'm one of those fool people who can be affected quite strongly by fiction. There is power in words. It's one of the many reasons I became a writer.
1. Kronos (Valentine Pelka, guest star on several episodes of Highlander, the TV series, 1997)
2. Borodin (Sam Neill in The Hunt For Red October, 1990)
3. Messala (Stephen Boyd, Ben-Hur, 1959)
4. Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford, Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981)
5. James Bond (Sean Connery)
6. Sgt. Saunders (Vic Morrow, Combat! TV series 1962-1967))
7. Tonto (Johnny Depp, The Lone Ranger, 2013)
8. Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor, The Phantom Menace, 1999)
9. Ken Hutchinson (David Soul, Starsky & Hutch TV series, 1975-1979)
10. Agent John Garrett (Bill Paxton, Agents of SHIELD TV series, 2014)
Interestingly, most of the fictional women who influenced me were in operas (and books), not movies or television. Although opera pre-dates movies and television for me, so perhaps that's no surprise. Long before I was allowed to watch a James Bond movie, there was opera. So, to balance this list out slightly, (and since my favorite visual version of this opera is actually a film from 1976), I'm adding on Floria Tosca. Here was a woman who needed no rescuing, and she remains my all-time favorite, and most influential, woman character of all time.
Floria Tosca (Raina Kabaivanska) and Mario Cavaradossi (Placido Domingo)
It's been over a month since I last posted. Mostly, I've been upset over the recent heartbreaking news that the San Diego Opera is being forced to close its doors due to financial trouble after 49 years. This is their last season. I've been a season ticket holder for several years now, and they have consistently put on the best operas, with the best casts that I've seen in the Southern California area. They were always well worth the long drive down for an evening. This news comes after finding out the LA Opera will not be putting on a single opera I'm interested in attending next season. After going to a record number of live operas in one season this last year between San Diego and Los Angeles, it looks like the doldrums lie ahead. Right when there has been an influx of fabulous singers, after a very long dearth of any singers to care about. At least there's still the Met HD broadcasts, and movie theater broadcasts from the Royal Opera House, etc. Those will have to tide my family over until we find out what the 2015/16 local opera season holds.
As for movies, I've seen two new, two old in the theater. I caught Monuments Men and Pompeii. Really enjoyed both. Monuments Men was beautifully filmed, and as a fan of the era, it was great to see all the uniforms, vehicles, and European locations on the big screen. I'm not particularly a fan of any of the actors in it, but they all were great in their roles, and I ended up caring for the characters. The story was entertaining, non-stressful, and well-worth the time to see it big screen.
Pompeii, on the other hand,was just plain fun. I went in expecting Romans, gladiator fights, and a volcano bringing massive destruction, and it delivered exactly that and more. I wasn't expecting Keifer Sutherland to turn up as a nasty, vile Roman senator (I hadn't read the credits beforehand), and he looked like he was having loads of fun in his role as a bad guy. Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje played my favorite character in the movie, Atticus, a gladiator with only one fight to go before he earns his freedom. He was great. The rest, as, as I said, fun. Lots of destruction, lots of fights, no pretensions, and I even got a chariot chase! I'd probably see both these in the theater again, if there weren't so many other movies coming out.
I also caught The Great Escape on the big screen. Sadly, the quality of this viewing was pretty terrible. I took this in
at the Phoenix Big Cinemas, where I've been catching most of the big
screen classic viewings lately. This one was very dark, washed out, colorless
from the very opening through the end. Ugh. One of the things I love
most about this movie is how green the grass is when Steve McQueen is
fleeing on his motorcycle, and how blue the sky is. And the scenery
when James Garner is trying to pilot his plane to safety... Alas, I had
to go home and put my own DVD on to get a glimpse of better color. Very
disappointing. But despite that, it is still The Great Escape, and you just can't go wrong with the this movie. It's one of my favorite WWII movies, and I've seen it many times on
television or DVD. I never tire of it. The cast is perfect, the
scenery lovely, and the story is exciting. To my surprise, quite a few
of the other audience members had never seen it, so there were some
great reaction comments that made me grin. That made up a bit for the
lack of screening quality.
I also had one longstanding
question answered. I have always wondered what Hilts (Steve McQueen) is
doing with his sweatshirt collar after he's crashed into the barbed
wire at the end. On the big screen, I could finally see that he's showing the
Germans his captain's bars, which are pinned to the inside. Ah-hah! So
happy to have that mystery answered. It was always just too small to make out
on a television set.
Today, I caught Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom there. Much better screening than Great Escape. No color or brightness issues, etc. I've been wanting to see this one on the big screen again ever since my last big screen viewing was rudely interrupted and I missed my favorite part. I have to admit, since we had an earthquake yesterday, I half expected another one today to disrupt things, but nope, the ground stayed quiescent, and the viewing was great. (Just felt an earthquake here at home... hah! How's that for funny timing? Aftershock, I'm sure, much smaller than yesterday's.)
On the soundtrack front, thank goodness for Danny Elfman! I've been listening pretty much non-stop to his delightful score for Mr. Peabody & Sherman. (He continues to deliver quality scores, movie after movie, in a world now dominated by generic, unmemorable, wall-of-sound action scores. My favorite score of 2013 (Epic) was also his.
My apologies, I am so behind! I have all kinds of movies to review that I just haven't yet. Midnight Club with George Raft, The Iron Mistress with Alan Ladd, The Liquidator with Rod Taylor, a bunch of newer movies as well. And I made the mistake of checking my drafts... wow, do I have quite a few abandoned movie review posts in there.
But it's officially autumn, my favorite season of the year. It's finally cooling off in the evenings. The last few days have been the first days since May that it was cool enough outside for me to leave my front door open all day long. It's cool enough that I can finally walk my dog again in the evening without his paws burning up on the asphalt. Yay!
It's also the official start of opera season, and I'm too revved up about that to write movie reviews. The Met kicked off its season a few nights ago with Eugene Onegin, which will be broadcast in the movie theaters on October 5th, and I can't wait. Handsome baritone Mariusz Kwieicen in the title role, Piotr Beczala as Lensky, and Anna Netrebko as Tatiana. I saw Eugene Onegin for the first time earlier this year with my favorite baritone, Simon Keenlyside in it, and loved it. It was neat to discover a new-to-me opera that was that enjoyable. I'm very curious to see this version. That's the cool thing about operas. It's always fascinating to see the different staging and what singers do differently. Simon plays cold very well, and Mariusz tends to be warmer, so I wonder how that will change Onegin's character?
And here at home, the LA Opera season just got underway with Carmen. I'll be seeing that live soon and am very much looking forward to seeing Ildebrando D'Arcangelo again. And bass-baritone Bryn Terfel is coming to Santa Monica for a concert! Woo! I would love to hear him sing the catalog song from Don Giovanni live, but unless he does it as an encore, it's not on his program. Sigh. Something to look forward to in the future.
So, movie reviews are coming, but as my love for opera trumps my love for movies, it might be another few days.
I'm guest posting about my passion for opera over at Rabia Gale's Writer at Play website. Opera is the single thing I love more than anything else, even over movies, books, writing. It's the one thing I would not want to live without. Rabia was kind enough to let me ramble on about why I love it so much.
Rabia is an excellent writer I've known for quite awhile now. She has published some great fantasy stories. I particularly enjoy reading her fairy tale re-workings, but have really loved every story I've read by her.
Well, my classic movie watching of late has been side-railed by two things: The Avengers and Don Giovanni. Yes, I really loved The Avengers movie. I’ve never read the comic books, and I haven’t seen all the movies that led up to it (though I’ve seen most of them), but this movie was just the kind of movie I’ve been waiting for. Just the right mix of serious and humor, with not too much humor. The right mix of action. Almost no bouncing camera! Hooray and hallelujah! Maybe that trend is finally going away??? Great dialogue. Lots of good-looking actors. All-in-all, it was a thoroughly entertaining way to spend two hours. I’ve already seen it three times and will probably go a couple more times before it leaves the theater. For anyone who knows me well and has seen the movie, then it's pretty obvious that Agent Barton/Hawkeye (played by Jeremy Renner) is my favorite of the Avengers. Who else would I relate to/love? LOL!
As for Don Giovanni, I attended a performance at the Disney Concert Hall last Friday with the LA Phil. The orchestra was good, the singers were good, the production was terrible. The set looked like someone had crumpled giant wads of paper all around, which in and of itself wouldn’t have been too bad – if they’d let the singers act out the story that goes with what they’re singing. But nooooo. Very little of what they did on stage seemed to have anything to do with the story. Even worse, they moved in super-slow-motion or stood around frozen in place, or randomly lay down for entire scenes. Okay, folks. Don Giovanni is a long opera. Do not make it bloody interminable by deliberately slowing the action down even more. I mean I know the opera, I know the story, and I know a fair bit of the libretto. It’s the one Mozart opera I’m rather fond of because it has action – murder, a couple assaults, an avenging statue, very funny exchanges between characters, and the lead character goes to Hell in the end. And when I’m bored, you know the artsy and ridiculously static production ain’t working. And I wasn’t alone in that opinion apparently, as after act one ended, quite a lot of seats were empty for act two. People were bailing out while the getting was good. Unfortunate, because the singers really were good. But opera is neither just music nor just story – it’s both and more, and it all has to work together. I don’t mind operas updated to modern or different time periods, but this was something else entirely.
(yes, please, sit around on boxes doing nothing. And why are so many characters dressed in white on a white stage? Are they supposed to blend in and vanish? Grrr.)
But, it put the music back in my head, so I’ve been listening to my Simon Keenlyside recording and watching better versions on youtube. And when opera is stuck in my head, I have a hard time watching movies. Although The Avengers is oddly compatible with Don Giovanni, so this combo has been working for me. I alternate listening to Alan Silvestri's score for the movie, and then listening to my favorite scenes from the opera... Yeah, it's pretty weird, but it works.
Love the title of this film, though I was a bit disconcerted to find out it's just the name of the town in the film. This was a very dark movie, quite literally as well as figuratively-- there's only one scene filmed in daylight! This film drips with creepy, gothic atmosphere, accentuated by... guess what! Another Miklos Rozsa score! This film offers one of the creepiest statues I've ever seen. It was directed by Fritz Lang.
This film tells the tale of a newly orphaned boy, John Mohune (Jon Whiteley), sent by the dying request of his mother to stay with Jeremy Fox (Granger). Fox and the mother had fallen in love in their youth, with dire consequences for both. The mother presumes upon that brief, painful past to find a home for her son from a marriage to another man. Fox is wealthy, unmarried, dissolute, and leads a secret life -- wants no part of being responsible for a child. But John impresses Fox enough with his spunk that he ends up keeping him on. When John stumbles onto Fox's secret -- he's the ringleader for a bunch of smugglers in town -- Fox opts to send the kid to America, but things rapidly start going wrong. There's also various subplots. One about a lost treasure dovetails nicely with the smuggling aspect. There's multiple betrayals, some exciting escapes and chases, and that oppressive darkness that pervades everything.
I quite enjoyed this movie. Granger's a bitter, but self-assured and selfish bastard on the surface, but the movie gives him quite a bit of complexity beneath that. He has a sad, violent back story that explains why he won't let himself love anyone or care about anything anymore. His harsh past also explains why he leads the smugglers now. And because he has that past, and he slips and lets show what kind of a good man he could have been if fate hadn't derailed him, he maintained my sympathy throughout the film. The boy, of course, gets to him, brings out the better side of him. I liked their relationship, how much the boy sticks up for Fox, despite how Fox initially treats him. I liked watching priorities and goals shift for Fox throughout the film, how he changes because of both the boy and circumstances. Redemption is one of those themes of which I simply never tire.
There's one nice sword fight in the film... where Granger's opponent cheats and grabs a poleaxe instead of the proffered sword! Eep! Was a little worried how that lopsided match would turn out!
The always excellent George Sanders co-stars as an aristocratic friend of Jeremy Fox, who isn't exactly on the side of right himself. And Joan Greenwood, who was Granger's co-star in Saraband for Dead Lovers, is in this film as Sanders' wife, who also very openly and brazenly chases Granger. I can't say there's that many honest or upstanding people in this film! A young but unmistakeable Jack Elam has a small humorous part as one of the smugglers. And the poleaxe-bearing opponent is played by Sean McClory, who I love in Plunder of the Sun.
So, good cast, very creepy direction, great score, great dialogue... all in all, I have to say I really liked it. I watched this one on youtube and would really like to see it again on DVD (not sure it's available), as it was so dark on my computer monitor, I couldn't always make out the details. I think viewed on my television, it'd be considerably brighter.
I'd be remiss if I didn't add how much I have always loved this time period's clothes -- and how well Granger wears them. I think this is my favorite time period look for him, from the pigtail and tri-cornered hats, to the shirts and boots. Just adore it.
Which leads me into one other thought, switching topics... All those not interested in opera... fell free to click away now!
Since I'm such an opera lover, and since Tosca is my favorite opera, my sister and I often play casting games, where we try to select various sets of people to put in the lead roles. Sometimes it's combinations of opera singers who never performed together, sometimes it's actors. Tyrone Power is still my idea of the perfect cinematic Mario Cavaradossi (I went on about that once here). And I've always thought Deborah Kerr would make a perfect Floria Tosca. Scarpia has always been trickier, because there's so many different types of Scarpias, whereas the two protagonists are pretty cut and dried. So, depending on the dynamics I'm craving in Act 2, I often settle on very different casting choices. George Sanders would make an absolutely ideal Scarpia, along the Cornell MacNeil lines -- elegant and scheming, his dangerous, evil side camouflaged by that oh-so-suave exterior. So also, I realized while watching this movie, would Stewart Granger play a perfect cinematic Scarpia, but he's more the Sherill Milnes type -- more outright threatening physically, charming but not so smoothly urbane, and twice as dangerous a villain because he's sexy on top of it all.
In Moonfleet, Granger's character's entrance was so much like Scarpia's entrance in Tosca that I was singing Scarpia's first words "Un tal baccano in chiesa! Bel rispetto!" for him. Kind of shocked me when he didn't start speaking Italian like the moment required. LOL! But the flung-open door, the pose, the whip, the outfit, the expression of distaste... wow. Quite utterly perfect. I haven't had the chance to share that entrance with my sister, but I can't wait to!
Well, my leg healed fast, fortunately. I'd like to say I watched a couple movies while I was keeping it immobile on the couch, but, well, I've been in too much of an opera mood for movies (I'm listening to Butterfly as I type this). I received the DVD of the Barcelona 2003 production of Thomas' Hamlet, an opera I've never seen or even heard all the way through before, so that was my viewing pleasure over the New Year's holiday. Simon Keenlyside sings the title role, and that meant I was grinning and loving every minute he was on stage. But then, I am thoroughly in love with Simon Keenlyside and his voice. He's the first baritone in... well, ever... who can actually compete with Sherill Milnes for number one position in my heart. And they're different enough that I can love them both for different things without them ever really overlapping, and that just makes life full of win-win.
Hamlet the opera was almost three hours long. Only a couple arias are truly memorable, but the rest of the music is pleasant enough, and the story of Hamlet is always entertaining. The opera changes quite a few things from Shakespeare, but that just made it more fun, when the plot deviated and went new directions. The ghost has a much expanded role, and I think those changes were probably my favorite differences.
The staging, alas, was very minimalist. I don't mind operas updated to modern or different settings, but I do prefer a bit of awesome spectacle in my opera sets. I don't find bare walls at all appealing. Of course, on the other hand, it means I can focus entirely on Simon Keenlyside, and that's not a bad thing... I think my favorite part of the whole operas is this one tiny little bit after he feigns total madness and then, when everyone has fled the stage and he's alone, his stance and expression instantly sobers to this rather resolute, satisfied grimness. Almost gave me chills.
The following aria has been one of my favorite baritone arias for years and years, so it was nice to finally see it in context with the whole opera. This clip is from the Met's 2010 version, which I'd really love to see, but alas it's not on DVD yet. Sigh.
I also finished watching Scaramouche, which I will review shortly!
I was privileged to attend Turandot at the Hollywood Bowl last night. I love the Bowl. I never tire of attending concerts there, and I wish I lived closer (and money grew on trees) so I could go more often. Although I really do need to remember that it gets cold there after dark, no matter how hot the day, and bring a warmer jacket next time!
Puccini's Turandot is one of my favorite operas by any composer. It has such beautiful, stirring, noble music -- particularly the main theme. Whenever that theme swells and the chorus comes in, I get goosebumps or teary-eyed or both. Last night was a constant state of both! The first act was so beautiful, so perfect, that I nearly cried through the whole thing. It's very rare to get a performance that measures up to a recording, but that first act was outstanding. The singers, chorus, children's chorus, the orchestra, the tempos... it was exactly how I want to hear my Turandot. The tenor, Frank Porretta (who turned out to be a sub, and thank God, as he was phenomenal), and the soprano singing Liu (Hei-Kyung Hong) were in fabulous voice, and I could have listened to them all night. I'd love to have that first act on CD.
Alas, in the second act, Turandot finally shows up, and the opera had its only downside. At least in this performance, the soprano, Christine Brewer, could not hit the high notes. (I read in a review that she has sung the big aria in concert and did fine, so I'm prepared to cut her some slack... the Bowl is outdoors, chilly, and is probably a tough place to sing an opera for the first time, particularly the role of Turandot which is a toughie.) It's too bad, as she had a really nice voice when she sang lower and softer. She reminded me a bit of Marilyn Horne, if Horne had been a soprano. Similar quality. But when Brewer should have soared, she... well, she kind of yelled her highest notes (very bizarre) and then slid/scooped back down to the next note she could hit. It was rather like watching a minor train wreck. Fortunately, the really high stuff is only in the second act, and she didn't have to stretch too much in the third, so there was no more cringing, just pure enjoyment.
And even those disastrous high notes weren't enough to dampen the evening or the opera. I had a great time. I'm very impressed with Gustavo Dudamel's conducting -- he hit everything just right. The right tempo's a big deal when that main theme kicks in in Turandot. Too slow it can be ponderous, too fast and it loses impact. Dudamel conducted it beautifully the whole evening. There wasn't one thing I would have asked for differently (well, besides Turandot actually hitting her highest notes, and I'm hoping she just suffered an off night).
And I'm looking forward to Frank Porretta performing again in the LA area, as I will definitely go see whatever he's in. Good tenors are, unfortunately, a rarity these days.
Man, I do so love opera. My first and truest love!
Work on my new novel, "The Traitor," had stalled out a few weeks back, mostly because I couldn't hear the voice of one of my lead character. I realized why yesterday. He's a she. I had the wrong gender. Now, she's not only talking to me, but large chunks of the novel rotated and fell in place. They had worked fine before, but they work better now, with the whole change in dynamics that the gender change brings. Now, I can't wait to get back to it.
My movie watching has slowed lately. Must be the back-to-school season. There seems to be a hundred things to do every day right now. But I did watch another couple of Tyrone Power films I hadn't seen before. The Black Rose and Prince of Foxes.
I've always liked Tyrone Power, though I don't have a crush on him, nor is he one of my favorite actors. But I have a great abiding affection for him. As I've been watching these films lately, I realized part of why that is.
He belongs in opera.
Seriously. Tyrone Power is everything I look for in an opera tenor, he simply lacks the singing voice. He's certainly got the dark handsome looks of an Italian tenor, particularly in some of the period films I'm watching, but more importantly, he's got the personality to play all my favorite opera tenor roles. And that's a hard one to explain in words -- spirit, a certain joy in life edged with darkness but not cynicism, bravado in the face of death and pain and despair -- but Tyrone has the necessary operatic ingredients in spades, where my favorite actors do not. Sometimes, my family has fun casting our favorite operas with movie stars from certain eras, or genres, or even from specific movies. I don't think we've actually done Golden Age stars, but if we did, I'd pick Tyrone Power for the lead in most of my favorite Puccini and Verdi operas. There wouldn't even be any contest. Tosca, Butterfly, Turandot, Girl of the Golden West, Rigoletto, Masked Ball, Traviata... he'd be absolutely perfect in a movie version of any one of them.
Tyrone Power in Prince of Foxes... could easily be the Duke of Mantua about to start singing La donna è mobile in that outfit
As to the two films I watched, both were entertaining, but I much preferred Prince of Foxes. The Black Rose had some good parts, but was brought down by the female lead, who is supposed to be the Black Rose, but looked about 12-years-old. She was very innocent and earnest and sort of cute in a daughterly way, but really. As a love interest? As the titular Black Rose??? Weird casting decision. However, Jack Hawkins played Tyrone's best friend, and he's much fun.
And then there's also Orson Welles. He got all the best dialogue, and he really makes up for the lameness of the rest of the movie. (Tyrone plays a Saxon, pissed at the Normans, who gets in trouble at home and splits with a caravan of goodies bound for the Far East. Ends up fighting for Orson Welle's charasmatic, but bloodthirsty Mongol warlord as one of his captains, gets imprisoned in China, then ultimately returns to England with gunpowder and other technological info... which he gives to the Normans.) Welles is also in Prince of Foxes (part of why I chose these two films), and has quite a bit of the best dialogue there too. Orson Welles is a compelling actor to watch at any time, but he makes these very intelligent, but decadent and conscienceless characters, quite fascinating. What better actor to pick to play Cesare Borgia in Prince of Foxes?
"I was thinking." - Don Estaban "Good. Practice makes perfect." - Cesare Borgia (Welles)
Orson Welles and his calculating stare
Prince of Foxes was the far better film. It was better written, better acted, better scenery, better action, and I really enjoyed it. (Tyrone plays Andrea Orsini, working with the infamous Borgias at conquering Italy until he falls in love and has a change of heart and decides to lead a revolt against the Borgias, which doesn't exactly go so swimmingly.) Man, Tyrone Power sure gets himself in trouble in his films, doesn't he? I'm starting to think there isn't a period film he was in where he doesn't get either seriously wounded or tortured. The actress in Prince of Foxes (Wanda Hendrix) was like some blonde Gene Tierney knockoff. Wide set eyes, prominent cheekbones, big lips and overbite. Not perhaps so much in a still shot, but in action, when she talked, all I could think of was Gene Tierney.
Of all my passions -- and I have many -- opera tops them all. Movies, books, writing, film scores, Combat!, etc. They all pale next to my love for opera. Specifically, Italian opera, and of my favorite Italian composers, Puccini takes the prize. I love Verdi almost as much -- it's nearly a tie half the time-- but Puccini still comes out on top.
So, it's probably rather surprising that I know next to nothing about him other than which operas he wrote in what order, and when he lived. This surprises me even more, because my sister and I spend hours and hours dissecting his operas, and as a writer, I'm particularly fascinated by his "narrative kinks." The things that push his buttons and he brings in over and over. Because, of course, a lot of them are my own. Well, duh. They would be. His operas have always been the biggest inspiration in my life. The men I like come, the stories I like, the plot twist/reveals -- they all originate with Puccini.
I remedied my lack of knowledge this weekend and read a biography that my sister had. Interesting, but bland, and entirely lacking in what I wanted to know. So, I'm eyeing some other biographies. Need to find the local library, see what they have. But it did cover all the basics, why La Fanciulla del West is so different from Madama Butterfly, why it took him so long to write each opera, his relationship with his librettists (which is one of the things I want more of), the role Ricordi played in support and encouragement, and the basics of his personal life.
Finished reading "The Florentine Dagger" by Ben Hecht, written in 1923. Interesting book. Starts out as a rather simple mystery and gets rather complex by the end. A strange obsessed narrator/hero who doubts his own sanity adds to the spice. The first murder had this guy knifed and a crucifix laid on his chest and a candle lit by his head. Now me, I'm a huge lover of Italian opera, and so I read that and exclaimed outloud, "Tosca!" Cuz after Tosca knifes Scarpia, that's what she does, sets a crucifix on his chest and a candle (or two) at his head. Then, as the novel progressed, a mysterious lady named Floria appears. Tosca's first name is Floria. I'm thinking, hm, what an odd coincidence, is there supposed to be a connection here? And as it turns out, yes, there was a deliberate connection and the ending has everything to do with Tosca. Which I dig to pieces, of course, Tosca being my favorite opera.
Which made me wonder how such a book works for someone who doesn't have this background? Does it work better or worse? Would it simply be a much more straight-forward mystery story to someone unfamiliar with Tosca? Would the end then catch them by surprise, since the foreshadowing would be meaningless? Since this book was written in 1923, the audience of that time had a much bigger chance of being familiar either with the opera or Sardou's play than anyone reading this book today. There's also a whole subplot regarding the Medici family and their violent history. None of it is explained, it's taken for granted that readers know who they were. So, does a book still satisfy when your readers are no longer conversant with things that were once more commonly known? Such questions fascinate me.
I liked this section:
"I've a lot of speeches I've always wanted to include as a part of my first and last proposal. We'll get into a cab and I'll propose." He hailed a taxi and they entered. "Drive," he smiled at the chauffeur, "slowly and carefully, anywhere you want." The man nodded, grinned, and pocketed a bill. They were silent as the cab moved away. "Well," said Florence at last, "you may begin." De Medici looked at her. "I love you," he whispered. "Will you marry me?" "You promised speeches," she laughed. "I've changed my mind," he said, staring at her. "I can't think of anything to say."
I quite enjoyed this movie. Granger's a bitter, but self-assured and selfish bastard on the surface, but the movie gives him quite a bit of complexity beneath that. He has a sad, violent back story that explains why he won't let himself love anyone or care about anything anymore. His harsh past also explains why he leads the smugglers now. And because he has that past, and he slips and lets show what kind of a good man he could have been if fate hadn't derailed him, he maintained my sympathy throughout the film. The boy, of course, gets to him, brings out the better side of him. I liked their relationship, how much the boy sticks up for Fox, despite how Fox initially treats him. I liked watching priorities and goals shift for Fox throughout the film, how he changes because of both the boy and circumstances. Redemption is one of those themes of which I simply never tire.
There's one nice sword fight in the film... where Granger's opponent cheats and grabs a poleaxe instead of the proffered sword! Eep! Was a little worried how that lopsided match would turn out!
So, good cast, very creepy direction, great score, great dialogue... all in all, I have to say I really liked it. I watched this one on youtube and would really like to see it again on DVD (not sure it's available), as it was so dark on my computer monitor, I couldn't always make out the details. I think viewed on my television, it'd be considerably brighter.
I'd be remiss if I didn't add how much I have always loved this time period's clothes -- and how well Granger wears them. I think this is my favorite time period look for him, from the pigtail and tri-cornered hats, to the shirts and boots. Just adore it.
Tyrone Power in Prince of Foxes... could easily be the Duke of Mantua about to start singing La donna è mobile in that outfit
Orson Welles and his calculating stare
