'Die
Fledermaus' gives opera a bat name
By
Matt Wirth
On-line Forty-Niner
Last
weekend, the Opera Institute of Cal State
Long Beach presented its yearly operatic
production. This year, it was Johann Strauss',
"Die Fledermaus" (The Bat),
a comical operetta of vengeance and bat
costumes that predates Bob Kane's creation
by 65 years. The production takes place
in a different bat-time and bat-place
from its original version, Hollywood in
the 1920s, and features English lyrics
and dialogue in place of the original
German.
The
plot revolves around Dr. Falke's (Christopher
Hetherington) attempt to get even with
a prank pulled by his friend, Gabriel
Eisenstein (Christopher Johnstone). One
night after a costume party, Eisenstein
was supposed to take an inebriated Falke
home, but instead left him on a park bench
in his bat costume. Falke's plan (or as
he calls it, "the revenge of the
bat") involves exposing Eisenstein's
womanizing ways to his wife, Rosalinda
(Aneta Augusyn) at a ball that he is supplying
the entertainment for. Along the way,
Eisenstein discovers that Rosalinda is
having an affair with a singer named Alfred
(Vladimir Maric), runs into his chambermaid
Adele (Teresa Mai) who has borrowed one
of Rosalinda's dresses to attend the ball,
and becomes drinking buddies with Frank
(Nathan Stark), the prison warden who
was supposed to take Eisenstein to jail,
but instead took Alfred.
Got
all of that?
The
production was appealing to both the eyes
and ears. Director Nicola Bowie and her
crew created an onstage world that combined
the decadence of 19-century aristocracy
with the Dapper Dans and flapper girls
of the1920s. Even Frank's prison looked
stylish and enchanting.
The
music of Strauss, performed exquisitely
by Henri Venanzi and his chamber orchestra,
drove the light-hearted action onstage,
including some of the waltzes that made
him famous. The entire cast gave incredible
performances.
Augusyn's
Rosalinda dominated the stage, both as
a hypocritical housewife and as an aria-singing
Hungarian countess. Maric's performance
as singer and wooer had more "ham"
than a breakfast at Denny's, but his humor
and presence never left you with a case
of acid reflux.
The
entire production, however, belonged to
the faux Frenchmen, Johnstone and Stark.
Johnstone's Eisenstein, the party boy
of the Roaring '20s, was the perfect candidate
to become the butt of a prank. His portrayal
emoted so much arrogance and narcissism
that you begged for him to get his in
the end. Even to the very denouement of
the operetta, Johnstone's charm and hilarity
kept Eisenstein hoping he could make it
out without humiliation.
Too
little, too late, however, for he had
already spent much of the second act in
drunken revelry with Stark. His portrayal
of Frank spanned from being a penitentiary
hardass to drunkenly stumbling through
the audience, then falling into the orchestra
pit in just over an hour. Even a man of
the law like Frank befalls to his own
errant ways in the world of the bat, and
Stark's depiction makes the most out of
this.
Overall,
the production of "Die Fledermaus"
was incredibly well done. With the English
lyrics, modern American setting and a
few cracks at contemporary pop culture,
it made it possible for anyone to enjoy
an evening out with the bat.
