Theres nothing ostensibly wrong with updating Mozart; it has been intriguingly and wittily achieved by David Freeman for Opera Factory and Tony Britten and his Music Theatre London. Bieitos interpretation gets it wrong by not engaging with the opera. Even a cursory glance at Lorenzo Da Pontes libretto should tell any director that the aristocratic Don is a libertine, a rake even, but not a thug or a rapist; and surely his phenomenal success with the ladies comes from his sophistication, not his out-and-out slobbery as here. When the narrative-thrust of the opera also goes by the board the Don is not dragged down to hell at the end but stabbed by the other members of the cast - so does much else. Perhaps it was Bieitos intention to turn Don Giovanni into a pseudo-Reservoir Dogs if so he could at least have learnt something from Quentin Tarrantinos grip on dramatic structure, especially as Da Pontes libretto is a tightly-organised theatrical vehicle in the first place - as a programme essay by Andrew Steptoe interestingly, though here completely redundantly, explains!
Even sadder is the fact that Bieitos conception isnt particularly shocking - simply rather tedious and adolescent. Nor is it thought-through the cast is far too mature to be Barcelona clubbers, except for Phillip Enss strangely matter-of-fact Commendatore who is far too young; and surely they would not be bopping about as if at a 1970s school disco. Rubbish litters the stage throughout, which one likes to think Bieito might eventually realise is an apt metaphor for his shoddy and slapdash production.
With so much frenzied activity for the cast, what suffered most was the quality of their musicianship and the half-cocked delivery of Amanda Holdens now expletive-augmented translation. As Leporello Nathan Berg comes off best, though one still couldnt hear much of what he says. Paul Nilon is a reasonable Ottavio but he is given too much silly stage-action. Garry Magee hardly shone in the title role: he adopts an inane, laddish grin, whilst his vocal equipment simply cant cope with the demands Mozart makes of it, especially the great set-piece arias.
Of the ladies, Clare Weston was an underpowered and shrill Donna Elvira; Linda Richardson makes much of Zerlinas skittishness - but not much of the music that goes with it. Claire Rutter salvaged something from Donna Anna, despite having to perform in a mini-skirt that seems three sizes too small for her. To be charitable one might say it was probably the production values that threw all of them in some way.
This debacle was not rescued from the pit - Joseph Swensen conducts a lumpish, unfocussed account of Mozarts sublime score. It seemed throughout that the orchestra, which sounds splendid in ENOs current Falstaff, just couldnt bring itself to concentrate. And to have the on-stage bands absent from the Act I finale one of the operas many great moments was another big mistake; this resulted in a melee of cacophony and woeful ensemble. Boos and catcalls greeted the director at the end. Did he deserve it? I wont suggest you judge for yourselves ignore this travesty and spend the money on a good recording of Don Giovanni instead.
- Further performances - June 9, 13, 16, 20, 23, 26 & 29; July 2 and 6
- Box Office: 020 7632 8300 (tel) / 020 7379 1264 (fax)