Verdi’s in Movie Turnaround

A pleasant, and unusual, buzz could be detected at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion Wednesday night. The new Los Angeles Opera production of “Rigoletto” directed by a popular filmmaker, Bruce Beresford, meant a higher-than-usual quotient of celebrities in the audience (and extra journalists). Hollywood likes only one thing better than seeing its own: seeing itself. In the production, amply advertised as an update, Verdi’s Duke of Mantua is now Duke Mantua, film producer; Rigoletto, his Machiavellian agent. They wear Armani.

There are usually four reasons for updating: 1) It holds us up to the mirror of high art--if in “The Marriage of Figaro,” Mozart can discover in the Count a soul, and Donald Trump reminds us of the Count, does that mean that we are missing something in Trump? 2) There is potential for amusement and shock value in updates. 3) It’s cool. 4) Everybody’s doing it.

Beresford’s production seems to have started out on the high ground of seeking meaningful parallels between Verdi’s world and ours, but it tumbles down the list quickly. Film moguls appear to live charmed, callous lives of entitlement, just like Verdi’s Duke; agents are in the business of deception, just like the Duke’s jester, Rigoletto.

The updating, though, is imperfect. Sleazy, middle-aged producers don’t usually disguise themselves as nobodies to seduce beautiful young women. Even Rigoletto’s sheltered daughter, Gilda, probably would want to be in the movies. And Beresford doesn’t manage to make much of the deeper connection between “Rigoletto” and popular culture that Jonathan Miller’s landmark Mafioso updating to Little Italy did nearly 20 years ago.

John Stoddart’s flimsy sets are a disappointment, appearing less lavish Hollywood than stucco Valley--more “Boogie Nights” than Oscar party. Armani may have hand-picked some of the clothes, but they seem more like what’s left at a Barney’s sale after the second or third markdown. The decor for Duke’s minimalist, lofty living room includes two large posters for his trashy movie, “Vendetta,” and a huge blowup of its star. Witty for a moment, annoyingly tacky thereafter.

We see the last couple of moments of the film during the opera’s orchestral prelude, and already an intriguing idea is miscalculated. On the screen a gunman enters a house, is about to shoot a sexy brunet playing solitaire but is ambushed. The film is washed out by stage lighting, and the end credits are in mirror image (is this a play or mirror-imaging--noir Hollywood vendetta with Verdi’s explosive vendetta theme--or sloppiness?).

No update has hope without a suitable cast. Beresford’s talents as a film director include a lean, hands-off style that allows for subtle characterization by accomplished actors (such as Robert Duvall’s Oscar-winning performance in “Tender Mercies”). In updated opera he can be faced with the opposite responsibility, that of inspiring singers to overcome operatic acting convention. The principals appear willing but are not theatrically convincing. When Duke paws a scantily clad hooker, you can see he is only pretending to touch her, and the whole thing then seems patently phony.

The redeeming feature of this “Rigoletto” is a completely old-fashioned one--Inva Mula’s Gilda. The young Albanian soprano is a traditional Gilda, nothing very modern has been done with her part or wardrobe. Her acting is moderately effective, but effective enough when tied to a voice of stunning dramatic power, exciting versatility and shining tone. An attention-getting Musetta in “La Boheme” here three seasons ago, she now has blossomed into a major Verdi soprano.

As Duke, Frank Lopardo makes a decent stab at sleaze, but he ultimately seems more comfortable when he can forget about all that and just sing. A tenor with a dark hue, he doesn’t have a garish sound, more of a benefit for Verdi than Beresford. Haijing Fu, who plays the hunchback Rigoletto leaning on a crutch, is not a strong presence on stage, nor is he in the best of vocal health.

Los Angeles Opera has surrounded the principals with many of its reliable regulars--Louis Lebherz (a drunken Monterone), Megan Dey-Toth (a stylish Giovanna), Malcolm Mackenzie (Marullo) and Jamie Offenbach (Ceprano). Eric Owens is a properly intimidating Sparafucile, but the racial implications of the evil hired assassin as a black thug are troubling. Pamela Helen Stephen (Maddelena) had to compete with her revealing costume.

Richard Hickox led a fluid performance that sometimes rushed and never seemed to have a solid rhythmic grounding (qualities that some find attractive in the British conductor’s work). To his indisputable credit, however, he had the orchestra playing and the chorus singing better than they have all season.

Originally Roberto Aronica had been scheduled to alternate with Lopardo as Duke, but Wednesday the company announced that Aronica had been in a minor automobile accident in Rome, and Lopardo will sing all performances.

* “Rigoletto” continues Saturday at 1 p.m.; Tuesday, Thursday and March 12, 15 and 21 at 7:30 p.m.; March 18 at 1 p.m.; Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave. $27-$146. (213) 365-3500. Note: This Saturday’s performance time was incorrect in Thursday’s Calendar Weekend section.

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This story has been edited to reflect a correction to the original published text. Soprano Inva Mula is Albanian, not Romanian.

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