La sonnambula (review)

Anna Moffo's career began better than it ended. After a successful decade, sudden cancellations and vocal ups and downs tarnished the soprano's reputation before it was indelibly tainted by disasters like the 1969 Metropolitan Opera broadcast of Lucia di Lammermoor or the 1973 RCA Thaïs recording. This 1956 Italian television production of La sonnambula reminds viewers of the golden beginning of Moffo's career, when the soprano's fresh, eager stage presence and lovely voice won instant acclaim in Italy and brought her to major international stages. The film also documents a now long-past era when operatic films were taped in TV studios. Imaginatively exploiting the television medium, the Italian stage director Mario Lanfranchi creates a visually arresting and dramatically thoughtful production of Bellini's opera. Lanfranchi subsequently married Moffo and featured his wife in films of La traviata and Lucia di Lammermoor (also released by VAI).

Lanfranchi respects the performing tradition of La sonnambula in a production that will, no doubt, strike some younger viewers as the ultimate in kitsch. He sets Bellini's opera in the nineteenth-century Swiss village specified in Felice Romani's libretto. Luca Crippa's painted backdrops and realistic settings are as authentic as his period costumes. The black-and-white film lacks the impact of a pristine print (VAI's tape source is afflicted with grainy surfaces as well as sonic blemishes) but faithfully documents Lanfranchi's concept. Unlike current TV productions, which are merely edited recordings of live performances, this studio Sonnambula gives the director the chance to exploit the film medium. Following the singers as they pass from the village square into an interior, the cameras transport the viewer through open doors and windows.

Lanfranchi—with the help of choreographer Luciana Novaro—exploits the Swiss setting with native color and vivid movement that sometimes proves distracting. Is some of the action too busy? Yes. Actors mime musicians playing French horns and trumpets (a few even blow on long Alp horns). Choristers frolic with garlands and sway and whirl in time to the music. Novaro adds dancers to many scenes and, even more distressing, undercuts arias with extraneous movement. Moffo sings "Come per me sereno" encircled by ballerinas who raise and lower their linked hands before swinging from the shoulders of the ballet boys. In the cabaletta, the soprano hops through a door into her bedroom and preens before a mirror before she picks up a basket and returns to the town square to throw sweets to the chorus. Then she embraces a child and greets her friends before stepping through rows of dancers. Despite the endless movement, the simple drama emerges intact thanks to Lanfranchi's deft staging.

Lanfranchi understands the class structure as well as the personal conflicts that animate Felice Romani's libretto. He contrasts Amina's innocence and naive trust with Elvino's pride and jealousy, and he underlines Lisa's flirtatious appeal and Count Rodolfo's noble but predatory character. Intruding on a pastoral paradise, Rodolfo arrives in a horse-drawn carriage and steps out with a top hat on his head and a walking stick in his hand. Impressing the villagers with his dignified bearing and grand manner, this aristocratic Count quickly asserts his rank and privilege.

A solid musical performance matches the effective staging. Bruno Bartoletti crafts a disciplined and buoyant reading of the score. Led by Moffo's radiant Amina, the cast responds to the conductor. Danilo Vega may not rank among the leading tenori di grazia of the 1950s, but he provides a musically alert and dramatically valid Elvino. Although his dry-toned tenor lacks the gracious sound and appealing manner of the ideal lover, Vega crafts a convincing portrayal. Artful phrasing and sensitive dynamic shading compensate for his vinegary voice. Expressing a range of emotions, from ardent lover to jealous swain, he neatly fulfills the dramatic demands. Gianna Galli makes a teasing Lisa. With flashing eyes and a pert manner, she conveys her jealousy of Amina and boldly flirts with the Count. Her voice, like the tenor's, is thin and piercing, but she...