Roadtrip in Retrospect

Off to Toronto Friday. Fight with traffic. Fight fight fight. Grrr. Arrive with minutes to spare. Rush to theater with Fiend. Rush rush rush.

The Threepenny Opera! A fast-paced, lively production with Mack the Knife played by an actor who -- cleanshaven, with his hair slicked back, and from a distance -- kept reminding me of a certain brother o' mine. The production took full advantage of Kurt Weill's tunes by incorporating dance routines that complemented them. A few were self-consciously stagey, but some were quite effective, most notably the sensuously, struttingly cynical "Tango-Ballad" between MacHeath and Jenny Diver. The latter can be played as either a pathetic victim or a smoldering she-devil of vengeance. Soulpepper opts for the she-demon, a slinky, Goth-eyed Jenny who plainly despises her former lover and his past treatment of her all the while she dances with him. Polly Peachum's costume and attitude seem to be derived from the image of an English society lady, which of course just augments the contrast between her and MacHeath's usual associates. The idea of portraying the play's dramaturge as a leering butcher with a mocking Anglo-Jamaican accent makes sense, but the cleaver and the hunks of meat and literal bucket of blood that he (or she) disports with are, maybe, just a bit too overtly symbolic.

Saturday: Eugene Onegin, as performed by the Metropolitan Opera. This is an interesting development: live broadcasts of operatic performances, presented in movie theaters around the globe at prices considerably less than one would pay to see the show in person. There were some technical glitches with the first act. A faint, high-pitched buzzing noise overlaid the music, and the movie theater's retractible screen did not rise fully, leaving the top few feet of the screen dark. At one point this had the unfortunate effect of making it look as though the camera were focused on the leading lady's towering, twenty-foot-tall torso while she sang her heart out with her head chopped off and out of frame. Fortunately both flaws were corrected for the second and subsequent acts.

The closeup shots also served to point out one of the conventional fictions of the opera, the fact that the people playing the roles are frequently significantly older than their characters are supposed to be. This is inevitable, of course. Those gloriously powerful voices are not developed or trained overnight, and it would be unusual indeed for any real 16 year old to actually be able to creditably sing the role of purportedly 16 year old Tatiana.

The story in Eugene Onegin moves in a leisurely fashion, with long musical diversions serving to illustrate the characters' internal thoughts. Essentially, it's the story of a doomed flirtation between a naive but intelligent country girl and a callow and self-absorbed young man, the title character. She, living on an isolated country farm, is smitten at first sight. But since he has attained the worldly age of 22 (22!), he rejects her love, claiming that he's too old for her, he's beyond all that, scarred by the world, etc. etc. Clearly, he's read Byron at far too impressionable an age. The first part of the opera concentrates on her viewpoint; the second focuses on him. In what can only be called Opera Logic, he decides to flirt with his best friend's girlfriend at a ball, in order to get revenge on the friend for his boredom at the party. This escalates into deadly duel and disaster as no one, neither protagonist nor freind, seems capable of exerting common sense. I suppose that Opera Logic of this kind is common in the genre -- otherwise there would be a lack of Byronically dramatic moments to immortalize in song.

At any rate, it all ends badly for one of our callow protagonists, but not so badly for the other. The music is beautiful, although unlike more informal operettas such as Threepenny, it has no catchy, self-contained songs that one is likely to hum or whistle while leaving the theater.

Later Saturday night:

Gasoline to drive to Toronto: $2-$3 per gallon

New operating system software: Price undisclosed.

Girlfriend who knows more about updating your laptop computer's operating system than you do: Priceless.

Sunday evening: Oscar time! Huzzah for Pan's Labyrinth, about which more later.