Review

  • Mozart is my favorite composer and Bergman is among my favorite film directors, so I thought I would give this a try. The fly in the ointment is that I am anything but an opera fan, in general finding the stories inane and the idea of people singing at each other quite peculiar. This operatic fairy tale did not change my mind with regard to these two points, but there was enough to engage me.

    There is of course Mozart's music, which is a big plus, but if that were the main attraction, then I could just listen to a CD. The costumes are subdued and well chosen without drawing unnecessary attention to themselves, for example, Papageno is not covered in feathers. The casting is well done, all characters look like you would hope them to. My ear for operatic singing is not tuned well enough to have found any fault with it. Many of the scenes are cleverly staged--the three boys descending from the heavens in their balloon was a high point. One of my favorite scenes was with the animals attracted to Tamino's playing of the flute. Some of the scenes are beautifully filmed with the eye of a true artist, like the scenes with the council of the elders. The staging of the trial by fire is stunning, although clearly was not done completely on stage. Håkan Hagegård's Papageno was the highlight among the actors for me, he created a simple, lovable character.

    The overture that had quick cuts to faces in the audience got old fast. After a few faces I got the idea that opera can be appreciated by any age group, ethnic group, or gender. Almost ten minutes of this distracted from the music. And I doubt that there ever has been such a diverse audience at an opera. The camera kept coming back to the face of a rather angelic young girl, and occasionally throughout the film there would be a cut to this girl, for no apparent reason. This was most irritating to me, it drew my attention away from what was going on on stage.

    The glimpses given into the backstage goings on is something a movie can do that a stage production cannot, but I found this concept to be a mixed bag. For example, consider the first entrance of Papageno. This is filmed with Hagegård sleeping and being awakened by the music's cue that he needs to be on stage pronto and, instead of anticipating his appearance and listening to some of the most affecting music of the opera, what we hear is the clattering of Hagegård's shoes as he comes down the stairway backstage. And, really, would a person playing a part in an opera be sleeping until he hears his cue? Another advantage of film is that focus can be placed on the actors, but here again I think this was not totally successful. The close-ups on the faces were too frequent and too intimate for me. Often a facial close-up prevented seeing what was going on elsewhere and, like someone getting too close into my personal space, I often wanted the camera to back up a bit from the extreme close-ups.

    What is with the occasional appearance of cards with text on them, sometimes pulled on screen by the characters?

    I regret that I am not one for whom opera can be an ecstatic experience. I'm afraid that I am doomed to wander among the unwashed--if this performance didn't get me there, then I doubt any will.