The part was surely built for her, though she only sang it in one run of performances at the Met, where this DVD was recorded in 1980.

Similarly, Plàcido Domingo is rather well suited to the role of Des Grieux, Manon's despairing lover, and only sang it at the Met once.

It is, in my opinion, Puccini's most underrated opera – relatively rarely revived and considered out-dated by writers on opera. Yet Manon Lescaut was Puccini's only critically unanimous success at its premiere, as all his other operas were either slated by critics or disliked by audiences. And the composer revised it more than any of his other works, revisiting the score to tweak it here and there for important international premieres or revivals.

Silly myths about the number of librettists (perhaps as many as seven) making nonsense of the text or nonsensical comparisons with Massenet's opera of the same name have given Puccini's Manon a strangely negative reputation. But the vibrant colours and the sophisticated use of the orchestra (learned from hearing Wagner at Bayreuth) make this a wonderful opera that deserves another chance.

The story depicts the life and loves of Manon Lescaut, who flits between a young poet, called Des Grieux, and an elderly roué, Geronte di Ravoir. She has to choose between love and money, initially going for the latter. And although she chooses her love for the poet in the end, it is with some regret. Meanwhile, her lust for money and luxury leads to her downfall: when she pauses to collect her jewellery before running away with Des Grieux, Geronte walks in with the police and has her arrested and deported. She dies of exhaustion in the swamps of New Orleans.

There's already a strong DVD rival of Manon from Covent Garden in the 1980s – again with Domingo, but this time partnered with Kiri Te Kanawa. Nevertheless, this newly released film from the Met offers different qualities, and makes a welcome comparator with the classic ROH version.

Renata Scotto is a more versatile Manon then Te Kanawa, making an emotional journey from innocent girl to haughty courtesan to weary lover, and if she's slightly less secure on the top notes, the voice is fuller. I exaggerate not when I say that I held my breath with every member of the massive Met audience during In quelle trine morbide, her great Act II aria, and the death scene is heartbreaking.

Domingo is both more giving and less secure than in the slightly later Covent Garden DVD. Occasionally both pitch and synchronicity with the orchestra are sacrificed, especially in Donna non vidi mai. But after the love duet in Act II the voice relaxes and the performance reaches the ideal. His violent desperation in the embarkation scene is electric – no wonder the captain lets him on the ship with his lover! – and the duet in the final scene is tender and loving.

One of the treats of the production is the casting of the veteran Renato Capecchi as the lecherous Geronte. It's a wonderful cameo and worth the cost of the DVD alone. Pablo Elvira is lyrical as Manon's brother Lescaut, but not as imposing as Thomas Allen on the ROH disc. And Philip Creech makes a good impression as Edmondo in the Brindisi, even though it's not a voice of huge proportions.

James Levine, who is currently suffering from an arm injury sustained from a fall in a concert with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, leads his Met forces with his usual panache. He's at home with the Puccini repertoire, whose flexibility and excessive instrumentation suit his flair at the podium. The Intermezzo is exquisitely played, and the chorus is marvellous in the complex choral finale to Act III (Puccini's last large concertato until Gianni Schicchi).

The extras include interviews with Domingo, Scotto, Levine and Gian Carlo Menotti, whose direction is sensitive. The designs of Desmond Heeley are expensive but relatively restrained by Met standards, and all the more attractive for it. My only qualm is the lighting and filming, which are sometimes unfocused and make the final scene rather distracting. However, the film derives from a live television broadcast from more than 25 years ago, so I suppose some compromise is inevitable.

Another great release from the Met archives.

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