I have decidedly mixed feelings regarding
‘filmed’ opera - that is, opera shot
on location or in the studio (as here)
with a separate soundtrack dubbed on
later. There are some advantages I suppose,
such as no stage noise, better quality
sound (sometimes) and cinematic realism,
if that’s what you want. The downsides
are lack of any real stage excitement
or involvement and the worst thing for
me, often poor dubbing and synchronisation
of sound and picture.
This 1979 film of Verdi’s
last opera has a smattering of both
pros and cons. The poor lip sync is
definitely there, with quite a delay
in places between what you see and what
you hear. Also, even though we know
the singers are miming to their own
voices, their actions and music are
sometimes rather incongruous; in other
words, they simply don’t look like they
are actually singing at times. Once
you accept these irritations, which
do fade into the background as things
progress, there’s actually quite a lot
to enjoy here, with a generally very
high level of singing and playing.
The chief draw is probably
the title performance by Gabriel Bacquier
in a part that, as far as I’m aware,
he never recorded commercially. He was
in exceptionally good voice in the 1970s
- his Golaud on Serge Baudo’s 1978 Pelleas
is one of the finest there is - and
his voice has an ideally rich, dark
timbre, virtually bass-baritone. He
clearly enjoys the acting as well, relishing
Sir John’s more eccentric moments -
the outrageous dressing up in Act 2
- and knockabout farce (the basket scene)
without losing sight of the subtler
points of the character. The barbed
sarcasm and wit he throws at his sidekicks
Pistol and Bardolph really is funny,
especially given the difference in stature
of the tiny Peter Maus and the giant
Ulrik Cold, who some may remember as
Sarastro in Ingmar Bergman’s famous
Magic Flute film. This broad
humour contrasts beautifully with the
wounded dignity he displays near the
end; here, camera close-ups really do
help, as Bacquier acts as well with
his eyes as anything.
Richard Stilwell puts
in a nicely rounded performance as the
jealous Ford, his lighter but equally
dramatic baritone providing a good foil
for Bacquier.
Of the women, I particularly
liked Karan Armstrong’s Alice Ford,
well sung and vibrantly acted as well
as being gorgeous to look at. The young
lovers make an appealing pair, though
Jutta Ihloff’s Nannetta doesn’t look
a great deal younger than her mother!
Götz Friedrich’s
completely naturalistic, studio-bound
production does try to give us plenty
of life and variety, the real feeling
of a vibrant community. His fluid camera
accurately captures telling moments,
whether it be a grimace or a glance,
and he often roves in a rhythmic counterpoint
to the score itself, as in the final
fugue. It is certainly true that we
can experience more fully the wider
world of these characters and it goes
a long way to fulfilling Friedrich’s
aim of making filmed opera a ‘real-life
story turned into music’.
He is not afraid to
show us overt sexuality, especially
in the scene where Mistress Quickly
uses her feminine ‘assets’ to entice
the fat knight, who is so aroused he
descends into lascivious groping. Friedrich
also homes in on some of the darker
elements of the story, showing how the
normally placid community turn into
a virtual lynch mob at one point in
the Windsor Forest scene. It’s a deeply
intelligent production from a director
steeped in the theatre but looking to
explore further in this medium.
Solti obviously loved
the score and recorded the opera three
times, of which this is the second.
He conducts with great energy and forcefulness,
perhaps a little too much at times,
though it’s undeniably exciting. The
soundtrack, recorded a year earlier
in Vienna, sounds splendid with the
orchestra on top form and well captured
by top audio engineers Christopher Raeburn
and Jimmy Lock.
There are no extras
and the picture quality is a little
dated and grainy though perfectly acceptable.
I could also have done without the rather
stern German voiceover that gives us
a synoptic outline prior to each act;
you can’t programme it out but can fast
forward if it irritates. All told, there
are too many good artists involved here
for there not to be something to enjoy.
There are other good Falstaffs
on DVD, including the rather conceptualized
Covent Garden production with Terfel
and the much straighter La Scala one
conducted by Muti, but if you don’t
mind the dubbed film approach, this
is pretty good.
Tony Haywood