Puccini: Tosca (TFI Vidéo, 2001)
 

Cast: Angela Gheorghiu (Tosca), Robert Alagna (Cavaradossi), Ruggero Raimondi (Scarpia), David Cangelosi (Spoletta), Sorin Coliban (Sciarrone), Enrico Fissore (Sagrestano), Maurizio Mauraro (Angelotti), Gwynne Howell (Jailer), Chorus and Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, Antonio Pappano (conductor) Benoit Jacquot (film director)

Recorded in 2001

Published in 2002 by TFI Vidéo in France (PAL /region 2/ with menus in French and subtitles (which are not optional) in French, English, German, also by Arthaus Musik in Germany, Austria and Switzerland (PAL/ with menus in German and subtitles in German and Italian)

Technical Details:
Picture Format: 1.85:1
Sound Format: 6.1DTS-ES and 6.1 Dolby Digital Surround Ex

Running time: 120 minutes
Sung in Italian
 
First and foremost, this is a film derived from the opera, not the opera per se. The producers acknowledge in the credits that it is 'D'apres' Puccini's work. Musically, it is a fine performance falling short of excellence, but worthy of consideration for many reasons. However, it has been created as a film with superpositions, interruptions and diversions which preclude any possibility of suspending disbelief. Again, on those terms it may be successful for many.
 
Gheorghiu is lovely to see and to hear, but portrays Floria Tosca as all glamour and no depth. In the process, the small points which set great performances apart are lost. Notably, she seems committed to the murder early on and shows no revulsion at her act or the corpse. In Act I, she attempts coquetry which falls flat; a more mature approach such as taken by Tebaldi would have been more believable. Alagna seems determined to prove his manhood throughout, driving through even the most lyric passages, declaiming and even approaching Sprechstimme, presumably to sell the character as a revolutionary, not a lover. Of course, he is both as Puccini's music makes clear. Raimondi on this traversal is overtly and insistently evil, transcending the despicable. In previous interpretations, that property was obscured under a veneer of nobility denied him here. A few lapses of breath control are minor; overall the reading is built on an attractive mezza voce with a few fortes. This most fascinating character becomes dull when there is no contradiction or contrast in the portrayal. The supporting roles are taken capably except for an exaggerated Sacristan reminding one of the worst of Italo Tajo's buffo performances. Pappano's conducting is enthusiastic, but unfortunately limited in dynamic and in expressiveness as though the film director wanted background music to which no one would object as he painted his vision on the screen.
 
And that is where the failures are evident: in Benoit Jacquot's adaptation to the screen. It is hard to say where to begin. The settings of the latter two Acts are conventional (as is costuming throughout); Act I has elements of an exaggerated church - vast unoccupied spaces which cannot be fused into an image of place. Even while in a space, the camera takes sudden leaps to impossible positions and movement including a preference for jolting the audience with a sudden overhead shot in which orientation is impossible. Far worse is the interjection of monochrome scenes of the sound stage where the music is dubbed; we are spared a view of the Foley studio where sound effects are introduced, but we are relieved of the drama by views of the orchestra in informal attire and soloists awaiting their cues. (As the score ends, we are seeing Ms. Gheorghiu on the dubbing stage in monochrome. Following the last note from the orchestra, she exhales audibly her relief that the ordeal is over.)
 
Lip sync is inconsistent but always noticeable - when it is attempted at all. In the style of Ponelle, some ruminations are heard but not seen. In no known style, at times the singers speak over their own singing. There are also stroboscoped and posterized views of architecture to waken those who find the music uninteresting. The result is that many high points dissolve into cinematic conceits; the 'Te Deum' must be seen to be believed. In part, it is a view of the ceiling and dome of the church, spinning erratically; for the rest, Scarpia stands alone in a vast colonnade as the camera races around him and he and the unseen choir offer the music. The end of Act II is comparably confused with earlier scenes running forward and in reverse as Tosca is presumably preparing the corpse and her departure.
 
Technically, the origin of the disc in film is quite evident; the crispness of quality video production is lost, but saturated and oversaturated colors are handled well. For the review, sound was only in conventional stereo. In that form, it is notable for lack of dynamics; only rarely does the level drop below mezzo forte. Even in the opening scenes, the Sacristan's bellowing is as loud as Cavaradossi's singing. With violent visuals and tranquil audio, the disc is a cinematic, not an operatic experience.
 
Related website:
Arthaus Musik www.arthaus-musik.de
 
Michael Richter, 20 August 2002
mrichter@cpl.net
 
See also Michael Richter's Introduction to the DVD, for a list of other reviews see the DVD Project page.