Last night, expecting nothing but to continue our movie, we turned on the TV to find it all aglow with a cultural event–Il Postino! A new opera based on that charming movie which we can barely remember except that it was, well, charming. Starring our own Placido Domingo! (I say our own because he ran the Washington Opera for many years.)
Well, the first shock was the announcer–LINDA RONDSTADT. She is an opera aficionada? Who knew? I guess the idea is, the composer is Mexican; Linda has sung Mexican pop music, \ Linda introduces Il Postino. Anyway, there was Linda—but we only knew it was Linda because she said she was. She has, well, changed somewhat over the years. I thought it was that TV setting that makes everyone look like a barn, but no, it turns out, not. She REALLY does.
Anyway, she did the usual pre-cultural-event blather that is such an important feature on PBS: that earnest look, expressions of anticipatory rapture, and in her case, excellent pronunciation of foreign words. I particularly enjoyed the way she reverently pronounced Placido Domingo.
So, the curtains part, the music starts. After some business with cars, we move to the scene introducing the eponymous postman: nice voice and very easy on the eyes indeed. The music is lyrical and lovely, with shape and character. Good start!
Then on to the next scene–the villa where the famous poet (= Neruda, sung by Placido of course) is sitting on the patio thinking poetic thoughts. His gracious wife comes in with some flowers, and he is enraptured with the way she sets the flowers on the table. His ardor grows more and more–he rises from his chair! GOOD GOD! He has certainly put on weight! There stands a man who never said no to a second helping of lobster thermidor.
Oh well–more of him to love, don’t you know! Something of a shock, however, whenever he turns sideways. The belt holding up those elegant Argentinean trousers must be at least 4 feet long.
Query: could the fact of this more generous physique than heretofore, a trait shared by the tenor and the announcer, be the link that brought Linda R to the job?
Don’t be such a troglodyte, Hope, I beg. The VOICE, the MUSIC, THAT is what we came for.
So anyway, Placido keeps singing, and thanks to the miracle of subtitles, we can’t help but notice that he is sort of getting a little HOT UNDER THE COLLAR, if you know what I mean:
"naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked, you are blue as a night in Cuba;
you have vines and stars in your hair;
naked, you are spacious and yellow
as summer in a golden church".
Lovely stuff, of course, but meanwhile, the 2 ton tenor is PEELING THE CLOTHES OFF THE SOPRANO. She is a normal size lady, but not perhaps in her first flush of youth. As he succeeds in undressing her to the waist (as we only saw the back view, and I like to think that she was wearing a pair of decent operatic pasties) the sudden horrifying thought struck me that the next step might well be the undressing of the tenor.
Comrades, I quailed.
We returned to our movie, a pleasant little film of no particular interest, but entertaining enough.
It is shaming, but I find that I simply do not have the COURAGE and STAMINA for grand opera.
Hope
