«Rigoletto a Mantova» concluded late tonight after three separate installations had been shown, live, on Italian television. If you missed them, you can read OC's take on Part I here and Part II here.
Cinematographer Vittorio Storaro made us lust after the Renaissance settings of Mantova's landmarks, including insanely-cool Rocca di Sparafucile (above) that was the location for tonight's Part III. Much darker, duskier and foggier, Act III hinted at the opera's nightmarish, cruel underbelly. OC still loves the opera\cinema hybrid despite the fizzling chemistry and anti-climactic camera work from Marco Bellocchio -- we feel that he royally overstepped the final scene outside Rocca, robbing Placidone of an Emmy moment. And we didn't like the (fake) lightning that flashed in almost every scene, at times reducing the delicious scenery to a campy horror flick.
Vittorio Grigolo as Duca di Mantova sweated his way through the first scene -- a gorgeous stone kitchen with a wooden floor, and a fire that had been kindled in the hearth that turned the normally powdered, collected Grigolo into a sweaty, steaming hot mess that we imagined manhandling his way across Mantova. Nino Surguladze as Maddalena was fierce, even her sweat-flecked bewbs were fabulous.
We fell a bit out of love with Julia Novikova's Gilda She brought it in Act I, but each progressive act we found ourselves bored. When she was murdered (in a been-there-done-that strobe light effect of darkness battling light), we didn't feel any remorse -- and that made us feel dirty!
Ruggero Raimondi reinforced again what we've said from the beginning: Sparafucile isn't a bit part. Raimondi brought dignity -- the Harry Dean Stanton of the opera world. Vocally he showed some strain by Part III, but he looked every part the murderer. A character straight out of a Robert Louis Stevenson book, he was absolutely mutinous.
Tonight, the psychological depth from Placidone was tamed, even slightly tranquillized, although still dignified. He was an aloof Rigoletto. The shame, pathos, and madness had been ditched for a declawed reading. Sadly, Domingo in one of opera's biggest WTF moments didn't work for us. He was too introspective. But to be fair, Marco Bellocchio's camera work took a lot away from the final scene. Instead of shooting Domingo's face with his copious tears, he panned to Gilda instead, who wasn't very effective in portraying the slowly-dying daughter. For Domingo's finale, we would have liked more if he borrowed from Leo Nucci's ham-flavored Rigoletto. So Domingo -- for the original Se7en «What's in the box?» moment -- fizzled. Brad Pitt as Domingo (as Rigoletto) and Gilda as Gwyneth Paltrow's head in a box.
We kept waiting for Mehta to go insane and unleash the surly hounds of Verdi from his podium in nearby Teatro Bibiena with Orchestra Sinfonica Nazionale Rai, but it never happened. Maledizione. Still, for this unconventional Rigoletto, we briefly lived the dream. We transcended. And we can live with that.