THEATER REVIEW: EUGENE ONEGIN

Despina  (Roxana Constantinescu) in Eugene Onegin. 

In Russia with love

By Ed Rampell

L.A. Opera has launched its new season with two operas that have a single, controversial theme: Infidelity. Both works are conducted by James Conlon. One, Eugene Onegin, is a Russian tragedy composed by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, based on Alexander Pushkin’s novel in verse. The other, Così Fan Tutte, is an Opera buffa, an Italian comedy composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, libretto by Lorenzo Da Ponte.

Sung almost entirely in Russian, in Eugene Onegin’s Act I Tatiana (Ukrainian soprano Oksana Dyka) is a virginal, repressed young woman living in Russia’s countryside. Tatiana throws herself at the dashing newcomer from Petrograd, Onegin (Slovakian baritone Dalibor Jenis), the friend of her sister Olga’s (Russian mezzo-soprano Ekaterina Semenchuk) fiancée, the poet Lensky (Russian tenor Vsevolod Grivnov). However, for some reason -- unlike the Beatles – “well, the Ukraine girls don’t really knock Onegin out, Moscow girls don’t make him sing and shout and Georgia’s apparently not always on his mind.” Onegin declines Tatiana’s impulsive proposal, declaring their marriage would never work due to certain unspecified characteristics he possesses which would inflict misery upon her.

At a party in Act II Onegin dances with and ogles Olga, prompting his jealous best friend Lensky to challenge him to a duel. The outcome propels Onegin to embark upon a self-imposed exile; in Act III Onegin is back in the pre-U.S.S.R. He’s been away so long he hardly knows the place; gee, it’s good to be back home. At Saint Petersburg he stumbles upon a ball being thrown by elderly Prince Gremin (American bass James Creswell), who has wed a now radiantly beautiful and worldly Tatiana. In a moment of lucidity, Onegin realizes his woes were triggered by snubbing Tatiana, and pursues the now married sophisticated beauty. Although she still has the hots for Onegin, Tatiana won’t come and keep her comrade warm; the tables are turned and now it’s Tanya’s doing the rejecting. You don’t know how unlucky you are, boy! (My sincere apologies to Lenin and Lennon/McCartney.)

Eugene Onegin’s sets are co-stars in L.A. Opera productions, and while scenic designer Antony McDonald’s ho-hum interiors are serviceable, his glowing exteriors are glorious. In the first act McDonald brings alive Mother Russia’s vast steppes, as reapers rhapsodize about the harvest in a great ensemble number with about 40 performers onstage. Old McDonald’s farm is truly beautiful. As at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas, lighting designer Peter Mumford creates a sense of the natural passage of time with his colorful, lovely lights. A pond of water makes a big splash and is imaginatively put to good use; it later serves as a skating rink as winter sports are enacted in the third act, wherein McDonald provides a sumptuous, panoramic view of Petrograd (which I recognized from all of those Eisenstein and Pudovkin films about the storming of the Winter Palace). McDonald also acquits himself well with the cast’s 1820s costumes, but those Russian exteriors are eye popping. Bravo1

The score is sonorous and well-conducted; director Francesca Gilpin’s mise-en-scene and choreographer Linda Dobell’s dances are on point. There is, however, a gremlin in the Kremlin. Gremin is played by a performer who is much younger than the prince is supposed to be – and his age is an important plot point obscured by this casting of 30-something Creswell. But this is a mere quibble that should not deter opera lovers from experiencing Tchaikovsky’s lamentation of love loss. 

Eugene Onegin runs through Oct. 9 at L.A. Opera at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave. For more info: 213/972-8001; www.laopera.com.

DVD REVIEW: COME UNDONE

Domenico (Pierfrancesco Favino) and Anna (Alba Rohrwacher) in Come Undone.

Unraveling at the sheets

By Don Simpson

Anna (Alba Rohrwacher) and Alessio’s (Giuseppe Battinston) relationship begins to come undone when a charming waiter named Domenico (Pierfrancesco Favino) enters the picture. Prior to Anna’s first interaction with the talk, dark and handsome Domenico (he is from the south), we sense that her relationship with Alessio is friendly and comfortable but there is nothing sexy about it. Even their body types — Anna is attractive and petite, Alessio is frumpy and rotund — signal that they might be romantically incompatible. I often found myself wondering how Anna and Alessio became a couple in the first place.

The affair between Anna and Domenico is clumsy from the get go, as they not so clandestinely exchange each other’s digits outside of the insurance office where Anna works as an accountant. At their first rendezvous, Anna crashes into Domenico as she frantically rushes out of the cafe; she is intending to chicken out, but instead she has to lie about having to go to her office to send an email. The sexual chemistry between the two of them is incredibly magnetic, but it seems as though whenever they have an opportunity to see each other, they are unable to consummate their relationship. They stop the charade before it even begins, but then they decide to try again…and again. Eventually they develop a plan: every Wednesday evening, while Domenico is supposed to be snorkeling at the pool, they will meet in a sleazy motel room (with red walls and lots of mirrors) to have incredible sex.

The situation between Anna and Domenico becomes incredibly complicated because it is based upon a web of lies and deceptions. Domenico is married to Miriam (Teresa Saponangelo), with whom he has two young children. When Miriam becomes suspicious that Domenico is having an affair, suddenly Wednesdays evenings are no longer a convenient time for Domenico’s sexual forays. Anna, on the other hand, decides to be honest with Alessio, but she fails to confide in her family, friends or co-workers.

Come Undone is just as much about the working-class struggle to put bread on the table as it is about Anna and Domenico’s affair. Both Anna and Domenico’s households are struggling financially. The only reason Anna and Alessio are able to enjoy a middle class existence is because they are childless, otherwise they would be stuck in the very same dire financial straits as Miriam and Domenico. According to Domenico, everything comes down to money; and given Domenico’s limited working class income, every expenditure comes with a painful choice (such as: ballet lessons for his daughter or a secret vacation with his lover)? When Anna and Domenico are together, however, money is not part of the equation, which is probably why they are so happy together.

Writer-director Silvio Soldini (Agata and the Storm, Days & Clouds) often allows the most minute gestures and actions to speak for themselves (fleeting glances, unconscious smiles, furtive flirtations, nervous conversations, etc.). Soldini also opts to focus on the more mundane and arbitrary aspects of life within the structure of his narrative, delegating very little time and attention to the traditionally important moments, such as the birth of a niece. These non-traditional storytelling techniques promote an impressively organic atmosphere in which scenes and dialogue develop (or come undone) naturally and flow at the normal speed of life.

Come Undone is now available on DVD. For more information: www.filmmovement.com

THEATER REVIEW: THE MERCY SEAT

 

Aftermath

By Miranda Inganni 

Due to unfathomable tragedy, Ben (Johnny Clark) is given a chance to change his life.

Set on September 12, 2001, Ben and his boss, Abby (Michelle Clunie), are holed up in her huge New York City home, waiting -- literally and figuratively -- for the terrorizing dust to settle in Neil LaBute's play, The Mercy Seat, making its Los Angeles premiere at [Inside] the Ford.

Married with children, Ben can't decide if he should answer his cell phone as his wife repeatedly calls. If he talks to her, he'd have to tell her the truth -- that he's alive because he's cheating on her.

Abby is honest yet manipulative, while Ben is honest yet naive. Abby's bitterness blinds her and she can't let him forget that he's married. She holds it against him, even though they are both willing participants in their affair. Ben comes across as conceited --  removed and seemingly unconcerned with the reality of his life. They both want everything to be fine, which is, of course, an impossibility considering the circumstances. While they dust off the ash from outside (dusting off reality), they can't shake the anger and resentment they have for each other.

As Ben's boss and senior (she's supposed to be 12 years older than he), Abby is in the position of power and authority, but she is at his mercy when it comes to their love. They both toy with the idea of capitalizing on the tragedy unfolding around them (a perfect American opportunity a la Shock Doctrine), running away to live happily ever after, but even they seem to sense that it's a fallacy. Instead they play the blame game and exchange barbs. She pretends everything is all right, faking her reality, running to the market to buy his favorite cheese. He ignores his reality, switching off his cell phone so as not to be bothered by its incessant ringing and the inevitable conversation answering it would entail. As a result, neither one is very likable and both are petty.

Running approximately 100 minutes sans intermission, LaBute and director Ron Klier's The Mercy Seat -- which has nothing to do with the brilliant Nick Cave/Mick Harvey song, later covered by Johnny Cash, about the electric chair -- both versions are played/mixed before and after the play (it's a pretty lame title for the play) -- examines opportunity at the point of crisis (the same word in Chinese, so they say) and having the courage, or rather stupidity, to cease on it. Ben's plan to avoid confrontation with his wife is incredibly idiotic and childish. If one wants to label LaBute "misogynistic," The Mercy Seat is not the place to do it. Abby is far more sympathetic than Ben.

While there isn't much in the way of physical chemistry between Clark and Clunie, both actors do a fine job. Clunie has great stage presence (though she plays too much with her hair), and both she and Clark deliver spirited performances full of spite and underlying emotion; do they love each other or simply hate themselves? Unfortunately, Clark's performance is understated where Clunie's comedic timing is sharp, resulting in her stealing the show.

If the worst tragedies bring out the best in people, I'd hate to see what Ben and Abby would be like normal day.

The Mercy Seat runs through April 24 at [Inside] the Ford, 2580 Cahuenga Blvd., East, Hollywood, Ca. 90068. For more information: 323/461-3673 (GO-1-FORD); www.fordtheatres.org