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This film of Mozart's Così fan tutte from 1988 was the last opera project of director Jean Pierre Ponnelle.
Having produced winning live films of Mozart's Figaro and Rossini's Barber of Seville and La Cenerentola, he returned to the Austrian prodigy's final collaboration with Lorenzo da Ponte for his last film production.
The result is the most charming Così imaginable, and any very minor technical or interpretative qualms fade into insignificance in a performance of this quality.
Ponnelle sets the opera in a Palladian villa (though it was filmed in Munich), and the heat of the location is the ideal background for the stormy passion that takes place there. As always with Ponnelle, the film is stylized and surreal, but that's very much in the spirit of the piece. Mozart and Da Ponte were trying to write something of contemporary relevance through a gentle parody of their society, and by making the whole thing slightly self-conscious, Ponnelle brings the satire to the fore.
There are a couple of oddities. In particular, I don't understand why Fiordiligi and Dorabella are present in the opening scene when the men are laying their wager. In an opera where women often assert their power, this seems to undermine them – they are mute throughout the scene, despite being discussed in their own hearing.
But in general, this is a hugely entertaining and entirely engrossing film of an opera whose message of human folly remains relevant to us today. Nikolaus Harnoncourt's conducting of the Vienna Philharmonic is also excellent – always vigorous and well-controlled.
Films of Edita Gruberova are few and far between, perhaps because she's hardly the embodiment of feminine beauty. The voice has to be heard to be believed, however – her coloratura is unrivalled in the bel canto repertoire and is equally persuasive in Mozart (as Fiordiligi in this case). 'Come scoglio immoto resta' is notable for the fluidity of the phrasing and the mock-opera seria precision; 'Per pieta, ben mio, perdona' bring out the actress in Gruberova, emoting true heartbreak.
As her sister Dorabella, Delores Ziegler is similarly pleasing, if lacking in individuality. Of her arias, 'Smanie implacabili che m'agitate' from Act 1 stands out, her creamy voice perfect for this expression of Dorabella's sorrow at losing her lover.
The star of the show is Teresa Stratas as Despina, the sisters' cunning maidservant. Vocally, this is easily her most satisfying performance on film (outdoing her part in Zeffirelli's version of La traviata), while her acting is as satisfying as ever. She dresses up as the putative medic with particular aplomb, causing explosions and noises with her large Mesmeric magnets. She's comic, she's pretty, and her aria 'In uomini, insoldati sperare fedeltà' is sung with wit and vivacity. It's worth buying the DVD for Stratas alone.
The men aren't quite the equal of their female counterparts, but the sense of ensemble is always complete, and Paolo Montarsolo's Don Alfonso is a treat of comic timing. Luis Lima sings wonderfully as Ferrando, a nice warm tenor for 'Un'aura amoroso', for instance; his acting is non-committal and his personality bland, however. The same goes for Ferruccio Furlanetto as Guglielmo – wonderful singing, bland characterisation.
It's possible that this is Ponnelle's intention, however, as the revealing 38 minutes of rehearsal footage suggest. The two acts of the opera, the two pairs of lovers – everything and everyone is the same, demonstrating the predictability of man's (and woman's) foibles. On that level, it really works, and as usual, Ponnelle brings many insights to this enigmatic opera.
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