Madam Butterfly: Take Two Prozac and Call Me in the Morning.

Madam Butterfly. What a beautifully sad opera.

I know, trite. I've seen it before and know the story, but considering the ticket price, sold-out run, and swanky Hollywood director, I was hoping maybe they'd throw in a "new and improved" happy ending. No such luck.

Despite the crying I couldn't stop long after the curtain call (I blame the champagne at the first interval), it was well worth it. Staged by the English National Opera at the London Coliseum, and directed by Hollywood filmmaker Anthony Minghella (of "Cold Mountain," "The English Patient," and "The Talented Mr. Ripley" fame), the new twist on Puccini's classic was everything the reviews promised: Visualy stunning, creative, beautiful, mesmerizing...making it all that much more painful at the end. It was almost as good as Baz Luhrmann's production of "La Boheme" on Broadway. I'm a huge fan of this Hollywood director/opera trend -- opera snobs be damned....keep these hits coming!

The opera opens in silence, as a "letterbox"-style rectangle opens at the back of the stage (you know, like the letterbox/widescreen format on DVDs), creating an "epic" tone and feel as if you're about to watch a great, classic movie. The box is lit from behind and takes on many different colours and hues, reflecting the mood as the production wears on. It also serves as the entrance and exit for all cast members. Above this box is a huge mirror which provides interesting perspective on what's happening on stage. Below the box is a broad, sloping black ramp. This probably makes no sense to you (I clearly have no future as one of those people that describe what's happening on stage for the visually impaired through the little headphones) -- but suffice it to say the set was extremely well-designed, framing the cast in a magical and mesmerizing way. It was as much a part of the opera as the music.

So the letterbox opens in silence at the opera's start, backlit in red, and M. Butterfly slowly climbs up into the entrance and descends down the long ramp in silence. She is wearing a white dress, and as she walks, four long trains of red fabric follow her and stretch out in all directions, as an introduction and precursor of what's to come (as if we don't already know).

At the end of the first act, when Cio-Cio San (M. Butterfly) and Lt. Pinkney are in the throws of love, pale cherry blossom petals flutter down from the cieling for at least 20 minutes, culminating with a curtain of pink blossoms streaming down from the rafters. Ensemble members dressed all in black move a series of white lanterns around the couple amongst the blossoms, creating the effect of lanterns and stars floating on the water at night.

M. Butterfly's toddler son is played by a puppet (manned by three people dressed all in black). Which at first was freaky and kind of creeped me out. But the puppeteering (based on an ancient Japanese artform) was actually pretty stellar, and by the end of the opera I had become completely emotionally attached to that crazy little puppet! He even got a bow at curtain call, which, I thought, overstepped the boundaries a tad, but the crowd went wild. Including me. I cried even harder.

Another memorable scene involved white paper cranes flying overhead as Cio-Cio San sings with her son in an embrace, as he reaches up to try and touch the birds.

The final death scene: Completely wrecked and broken hearted by her husband's rejection (men are such pigs), she commits suicide, samaurai style, with the same sword her father used to kill himself (I told you, NOT HAPPY). Plunging the sword into her throat, with her blindfolded puppet-baby standing by (American flag in hand), red sashes unfurl from her dress. Lt. Pinkney rushes in, sees her dead, and falls to his knees in remorse. Blackout. The curtain comes down, Japanese characters scroll across it in white light. I have no idea what they said, but who cares, it was ultimate, gorgeous drama!

It was really great. Really fabulous. The singing may have been a tad weak at times, but it was still pretty good and the visual payoffs certainly made up for it. M. Butterfly was extremely talented (and oh, the glory of an opera diva's curtain call! They get SO much love, it's awesome!) I'd see it again, if there were any tickets left -- I actually had to go alone becuase I couldn't get two tickets! And can I just say, NOT a good "alone" show?

The London Coliseum is a fantastic venue, and only two blocks from my flat which made the walk home much easier. Nothing says "great night out" like a girl stumbling home alone crying in the street. ;)