THEATER REVIEW: CARMEN





Carmen (Patricia Bardon) in Carmen. Photo by Robert Millard.

 

 

Safety net

By Ed Rampell

LA Opera has launched its 2013/2014 season with a glorious Carmen. Experiencing the eye catching sets and costumes, the breathtaking mass spectacle and dramatic story and, above all, Georges Bizet’s entrancing, mellifluous music, aficionados might briefly feel what John Lennon called “instant karma.” When in Act I Irish mezzo-soprano Patricia Bardon as Carmen sings her “Habanera” aria in a Seville square or Italian bass-baritone Ildebrando D’Arcangelo as the bullfighter Escamillo performs Act II’s rousing “Toreador Song” in Lillas Pastia’s tavern, spectators may have a transcendental sense that there’s no better place to be in the entire universe at that moment than in his/her seat at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.

This could impart a rapturous sensibility of well-being, that all’s well with the world -- but such is not so with the title character (played by Serbian mezzo-soprano Milena Kitic on Sept. 28). Carmencita, Spain’s sultry cigarette factory girl, is a sensuous free spirit, one of the original femme fatales, who lives and loves as she pleases. The high spirited Carmen perfectly expresses her philosophy in the lilting “Habanera” singing: 'Love is a rebellious bird nobody can tame.' But in patriarchal 19^th century Spain this sets Carmen, with her “gypsy” mentality, on a collision course with her soldier lover, Don Jose (tenor Brandon Jovanovich alternates in the role with Brazilian Thiago Arancom, who played the part on Oct. 1 and 4) and the dashing toreador Escamillo (baritone Dwayne Croft played the role Sept. 28), who vie for the enticing Carmen’s affections. Like Jezebel, Juliet and an endless number of film noir dolls, the coquettish Carmen must be punished by the patriarchy for daring to enjoy sex.

The current rendition of this perennial favorite is similar to LA Opera’s 2008 Carmen production by Emilio Sagi, reprising the period costumes by designer Jesus del Pozo, choreography (including some stirring, stylized flamenco numbers, castanets and all) by Nuria Castejon and bravura sets designed by Gerardo Trotti. The latter include a stunning Seville plaza, Lillas Pastia’s watering hole, a mountain set (perhaps in the Pyrenees) and the exterior of a bullfighting ring. There Carmen meets her destiny, but a sharp eyed observer might note that the ending of the previous production is, perhaps, significantly different than in the current version. Whereas in 2008 Carmen seemed to seal her fate by her own hand, in the 2013 rendition it seems to be carried out by another.

The non-traditional multi-culti casting of this opera composed by Bizet in 1875 with a libretto by Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halevy, based on Prosper Merimee’s novel that takes place in 1820-ish Spain includes the aptly named South African soprano Pretty Yende as Micaela (Kentuckian Amanda Woodbury tackles the role Sept. 28) and South Korean soprano Hae Ji Chang as Frasquita, one of Carmen’s cohorts. When he entered the orchestra pit to wield the baton maestro, Placido Domingo was met with spontaneous ovations by the genuinely adoring crowd. Trevere Ross expertly directs the spectacle, which at times includes the tricky mise-en-scene of 60-ish performers moving onstage at once.

A number of senoritas in the audience wore red gowns and shawls to pay homage to their operatic heroine, the “scarlet lady.” Although set in Spain, Carmen is actually sung in French -- which may be appropriate, as this is sometimes called “the language of lovers.” Carmenhas four acts and is more than three hours long, with two intermissions. Plenty of time for theatergoers to willingly suspend their disbelief and ascend to opera heaven. Judging by this splendid premiere, Angelino opera fans are in for a stellar season. Instant Carmen’s gonna get you, as LA Opera shines on!

Carmen runs through Oct. 6 at 2:00 p.m. at the LA Opera at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave. For more info: 213-972-8001; www.laopera.com.

 

The new book co-authored by reviewer Ed Rampell, The Hawaii Movie and Television Book, premieres November 20.

FILM REVIEW: AUGUSTINE

Augustine (Soko) in Augustine.

Let us play master & servant

By Don Simpson

Augustine (Soko) is working as a kitchen servant when she has a convulsive fit that sends her to Paris’ Salpêtrière psychiatric hospital with one eye stuck shut and half of her body paralyzed. Determined to get out of the hospital as soon as possible, Augustine attracts the attention of the chief neurologist -- Dr. Jean-Martin Charcot (Vincent Lindon) -- when she has her next seizure. Charcot almost immediately identifies Augustine as his best chance to convince the Academy to provide him with more funding for Salpêtrière. After diagnosing Augustine with ovarian hysteria -- a catch-all diagnosis in 19th century France for women -- Charcot's best guess is that Augustine's hysteria is rooted in her brain. Augustine quickly becomes Charcot's pet patient because of her susceptibility to hypnosis. While hypnotized, Augustine's seizures can easily be triggered by Charcot...almost too easily. The theatricality of Charcot's presentations draws comparisons to Sarah Bernhardt's performances and evokes questions about the legitimacy of his research.

Strategically avoiding expository dialogue, writer-director Alice Winocour opts to let the audience contemplate the authenticity of Charcot's research and come to their own conclusions. We never know when the performance begins and when it ends, but skeptics of hypnotism will surmise fairly early on that Augustine is merely performing. Augustine is given plenty of motivations to do so. (Freud might suggest that Augustine is unconsciously trying to escape her job.) She is rewarded handsomely for her role as Charcot's prized subject with beautiful new dresses and a private room. Augustine knows that Charcot needs her for the continuance of his career; it is also obvious that Charcot craves Augustine sexually. Charcot is clearly trying to keep Augustine confined in Salpêtrière for as long as possible, and Augustine plays along with the charade for her own benefit. Although Augustine wants to be cured, that would most likely mean returning to a servant's position. It is in Augustine's best interest -- despite the tortuous Cronenbergian medical devices used on her -- to remain at Salpêtrière for as long as possible, but she also needs to maintain Charcot's undivided attention. The possibility that Charcot might discover another star patient is Augustine's greatest fear.

Augustine is able to make the best out of a horrible situation; she does so by identifying key ways to manipulate Charcot and turn the doctor-patient and male-female power dynamics upside-down. Augustine goes from being a servant to being served -- from  puppet to puppeteer; a repressed and tortured woman to becoming a person of power and influence. Most importantly, Augustine does this in 19th century France, when women are either wives or servants. The 19th century was an time when wealthy, old, white men made important decisions about women's health issues behind closed doors -- this is something that would never, ever happen in the 21st century... Right, America?

SXSW 2011: 13 ASSASSINS

A scene from 13 Assassins.

Sword to disobey

By Don Simpson

13 Assassins, Takashi Miike's remake of the 1963 Eiichi Kudo film, takes place in Japan during mid-19th century. The Shogunate has known peace for many years and the Samurai have grown soft and lazy in their inactivity. Something has got to change.

The sadistically inclined Lord Naritsugu Matsudaira (Gorô Inagaki) is on the fast track to power in the Shogunate. His penchant for killing and raping innocent civilians for sheer entertainment value has forced the hand of the noble advisor to the Shogun, Sir Doi (Mikijiro Hira), to plan Lord Naritsugu’s assassination. Doi promptly recruits one of the last true samurai, Shinzaemon Shimada (Kôji Yakusho), to establish a team for this very risky mission.

The first act of 13 Assassins focuses on Shinzaemon gathering his team. He scours the land for the few remaining competent and trustworthy samurai with a few less competent, but very dedicated and trustworthy ones, nonetheless, thrown in for good measure. Eventually Shinzaemon finds twelve samurai who are willing to risk their life in order to participate in Lord Naritsugu’s demise. Later, one non-samurai, Koyata (Yûsuke Iseya), joins the fold along their journey, bringing the total to 13. 

Soon Shinzaemon finds himself face-to-face with Naritsugu's lead samurai, Hanbei Kitou (Masachika Ichimura), Shinzaemon’s old rival from training school, now his nemesis, and the "chess" match begins. Shinzaemon’s small group of samurai prepare to battle Hanbei’s samurai army of hundreds. Facing impossible odds, Shinzaemon is forced to go all in with a high risk gamble. The thirteen assassins choose a small town to fortify with the hope that strategic preparation will somehow even out the odds.

As the third act commences, so does the drawn-sword-out slaughter fest. Surprisingly, the blood and violence never becomes gratuitous; if anything, Miike restrains himself in an effort to make a profound statement about the senselessness of war. As Lord Naritsugu revels in the bloody mayhem, his army blindly follows him. Miike skillfully highlights the moral dilemma of the film’s samurai -- they must weigh obedience against justice. The battle is between the blindly obedient and the morally just. The morally just are backed into a corner; with the future of Japan at stake, they are forced to kill their foes in defense of their country.

Since we are talking about a group of samurai hired to be heroes, it is only natural 13 Assassins remind anyone who has seen Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai of that epic film in which samurai are hired to protect a village from bandits.

The Koyata character offers a hefty dash of Kurosawa-esque comic relief and besides the narrative trope of recruiting heroes into a team for a mission, Miike also co-opts Kurosawa’s anti-war stance. 13 Assassins is an unexpectedly mature and profound film for the incredibly prolific Miike and, truth be told, I never thought I would compare Kurosawa with Miike. They have both traditionally been polar opposites for me: Kurosawa the formal master and Miike the guilty pleasure. Suddenly, with 13 Assassins, the two worlds have collided. 13 Assassins is dramatically more violent than anything Kurosawa ever created yet 13 Assassins could very well be a remake of Seven Samurai.