The ENO's production of Donizetti's "melodrama in a prologue and two acts" Lucrezia Borgia is notable for two reasons. Firstly, it's a new production of an opera by a major bel canto composer, but one that isn't performed all that often. Secondly, it's the operatic debut of acclaimed film director Mike Figgis.
The historical Lucrezia is best known as a serial poisoner of extreme beauty, who had a string of political marriages as well as a string of lovers which may or may not have included her father and brother. Reading his programme notes, it's clear that Figgis became thoroughly consumed by the story and was unable to keep his hands off the camera. In place of the overture, therefore, we were shown a short film dramatising some of the historical background, with further episodes shown before each act.
The use of film in this context will be controversial. It was pretty salacious stuff, filmed in Italian art-house style and designed both to shock and titillate. It was also a reasonably accurate depiction of historical events - or at least, of the stories that were told about the Borgia family at the time. It worked for me: I thought it was very well filmed and provided a level of darkness and menace that is mainly absent from the operatic score, which focuses on the relationship between Lucrezia and her long lost son Gennaro. Also, I'm much happier to see this kind of enhancement presented separately from the opera, rather than the more common modern approach of screening it in the background or shoehorning clever ideas into the sets and costumes. However, the film won't be to everyone's taste. My one disappointment was that the original overture, which is a really lovely piece of music, was dropped. Instead, a short scene involving Lucrezia was placed at the beginning - I'm not sure where from.
I thoroughly enjoyed Figgis's work on stage: sets, costumes and lighting were very effective. In Act I, Alfonso and Lucrezia's throne room was a glorious representation of a renaissance dipytch. For one of Alfonso's entrances, servants roll out a brightly lit blood red carpet across an otherwise completely dark stage - the effect was very powerful. I also loved the translation, by the conductor Paul Daniel, which was clear, sometimes poetic and followed the original well (except, not unreasonably, where Daniel allowed himself to have some fun and take some liberties in the drinking song (or brindisi), in which the Madeira and Cyprus wines of the original were replaced by the rhyming of Chianti, Spumante and various other Italian wines more familiar in 21st century England).