A (Half) Night at the Opera

With the coming of sunny, mild spring weather and longer, lighter nights I seem to have dispensed with my weekly opera/ballet habit. A few weeks ago therefore, I thought I'd check the theater schedule and try to buy tickets for something I hadn't seen before. The Merry Widow caught my attention because it's described as an operetta, like a musical comedy, and greatly appealed to me as a fun night of entertainment.

When I arrived the ushers were explaining that one of the stars had taken ill and they were substituting Rusalka, an opera by the Czech Dvorak, but we could get our money back if we preferred not to attend. I opted to stay, thinking, hey, I at least had heard of Dvorak and knew this particular opera was part of the season's repetoire, so why not? And if you're thinking you don't like where this is heading you're thinking right.

Lights dim, conductor begins and we see the staging of a forest...with a very sparkly but Rubenesque character reclining on the branch of a tree. Tonight the opera is sung in Czech with German subtitles, instead of in Italian with Slovak subtitles. We see three blond-wigged (a la Farrah Fawcett) characters sing and cavort on stage. The Supremes interact with a bass demon in dreads who sings from the recesses of the stage floor because he's in the (pretend) water. Although the chorus routinely appears very sharp, it didn't help things when one of them tripped on his costume going downstairs.

Finally, Ms. Sparkly emerges and you get the idea that she is from the nether-world and moaning about something or other, and a little too old and un-svelte to be pulling this off. (I know, this is probably a very American take on the cast, but I just couldn't get my head wrapped around the plot.) She also has a Farrah wig on, although in a varied shade and different style. Hilarity ensues...NOT. This looks to be a heavy opera in more ways than one.

Thankfully, intermission arrives and I run home to see what the hell I'm watching. (You can buy the program at the theater but the english translation is so bizarre it' s always better to google.) Well, it seems I am watching something based loosely on a fairy tale, much like Disney's Little Mermaid, except she dies! ("Ariel, listen to me..."

Rusalka is the term for a mythological Slavik water sprite and this one has gone and fallen in love with a prince. If she pursues this life and "goes human" she will be speechless, (them's the breaks in the enchanted pond) which kind of puts the damper on her singing part. Rusalka is forced to act, appearing upset but determined to be a good (albeit quiet) bride. Oddly, whenever her prince/hunter boyfriend is on stage he has a video camera, taping Rusalka.

Later, in Act II we are at the castle where we now have "suits" playing body guards, complete with shades and ear pieces. Out comes the prince, camcorder in hand, but this time he's taping some other visiting princess who wears a really silly gold crown and ugly red dress. It gets better - and stranger. The ball unfolds and everyone is in Halloween orange and black with a little bit of silver for drama. Picture the women: they wear the trick or treat colors, with exposed breasts but really it is a plastic silver breastplate, like if you were trying to pretend to be the Incredibe Hulk. Their wigs are great; they look like a cross between SNL's conehead and Brides of Frankenstein. The men aren't bad either; they have black wigs with white mohawks. During this visual assault I didn't know where to look first. All I could picture was the costume and stage designers going, "What, Rusalka again?! OK, we'll give you Rusalka..."

At this point I'd give anything to hear the lively calypso version of "Under the Sea", but that's not going to happen. The well-known aria is called "Song to the Moon", with which I am not familiar but Sarah Brightman included it an album a few years ago. Anyone out there know it?

Anyway, after the Halloween costume ball, there is a SECOND intermission, and it is now that I realize this baby isn't going to end until 10:00, much too late for a disinterested opera patron who has school the following day. So Act III happened without me and I assume Rusalka bit the dust. I am not sure if the prince taped her demise but I would hope that his royal upbringing would prevent such crassness. And... where are Groucho, Harpo and Chico when you could use them?!