Film review: The Magic Flute (directed by Kenneth Branagh)

[narcasse]

Some few months ago I heard of a Kenneth Branagh directed version of Die Zauberflöte and decided that I was going to attempt to give it a chance.

Now Die Zauberflöte is one of those operas that I’ve had a rather bizarre relationship with, which has left me turning my nose up at it for years due to being involved in one too many performances of the overture when I was younger. I’ve also admittedly disliked Mozart’s work in general for quite some length of time simply on the principle that every slack-jawed moron I had the misfortune of coming across for a rather extended period of time classified classical music as Rondo á La Turk and nothing else besides. And yet perhaps in avoiding this key work for years I’ve managed to do myself a favour since I’m not entirely sure I would have truly comprehended it at the time.

Of course I do have shallow reasons for enjoying the work too; Der Hölle Rache for instance is absolutely beautiful, even if the likes of Natalie Dessay look like they’re going to jettison their headpiece during the rendition and the sets for the Julie Taymor version were absolutely stunning. Additionally, as far as propaganda and a little simplification goes, while the entirety of the opera is really a very good paean to Masonry; In diesen heil'gen Hallen really takes my breath away.


All of which should have left me expecting something quite delightful in a cinematic version. Unfortunately my first disappointment came in the form of the English libretto which I probably should have expected and while I could brush that aside in light of Benjamin Jay Davis’ Papageno and René Pape’s Sarastro both of whom were suspiciously good looking aside from being possessed of wonderful voices, the first appearance of Lyubov Petrova as the Queen of the Night was equally disappointing. This may be personal opinion but the Queen of the Night should be shown to be absolutely stunning in the direction and unfortunately Branagh seemed to favour some truly appalling camera angles to display her wickedness. Even her grand entrance was somewhat bizarre.

The entirety of the WWI theme that was chosen just didn’t really seem to work. The artificial battlefield made me cringe and the model planes early on did nothing to help. In fact the setting was the most disconcerting part for the majority of the film and only seemed to work on two very distinct occasions. The start of Act II set against not a grove but the vast cemetery where Sarastro’s followers mourn their fallen, with the names of the dead written in Cyrillic, Arabic, English, Hebrew and other alphabets was likely the one scene that the entire setting was leading up to. It really reinforced the message of the lyrics. Unfortunately, as stunning and tear-inducing as that scene was; it really couldn’t make up for the rest. The second scene that actually worked was Papageno’s Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen which was rendered in the form of a dream sequence that I suspect might have been stolen from the opening titles of the TV series Lipstick on Your Collar.

Yet between the two visually charming scenes the rest seemed terribly awkward, as if Branagh sometimes forgot which direction he was taking the matter in and remembered at odd moments so that what was seemingly realistic drama suddenly became strangely fantastical at times and what was beautifully fantastic suddenly became pedestrian at others. The direction of Der Hölle Rache made me want to put out my eyes just as the horrific close-ups during O zittre nicht made me wonder what the entire point was. And it’s those horribly awkward moments that sink the entire endeavour really. Everything builds up to one perfect scene and yet the rest of the story simply doesn’t frame itself around that setting. Even the use of ‘the old lie’, as Wilfred Owen terms it; “Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori” when Tamino reaches the Temple seems a little off while he’s busy exclaiming “Ist dies der Sitz der Götter hier?” except he doesn’t actually use that line and instead says something in English. Granted, I may be a little biased here since the only English opera I’ll tolerate is Gilbert & Sullivan but still, beyond the language issue, while the setting may mean that the Latin phrase shouldn’t be viewed quite so cynically; it’s none the less jarring, especially with Sarastro later singing that the killing must end.


Thus the problem with the entire set piece really is that far too many things don’t seem quite to fit together well enough. Little pieces like the moving of the scaffolds to part the way to the trials, that resolves said scaffolding into the telltale square and compass shape with the sunlight shining through are absolutely charming and the initial close-up of the cemetery walls does feel a little like it should be a list of Masonic lodges but it’s almost as if Branagh can only manage things in twos; two lovely brief visual moments, two beautifully cinematic sequences, two opera singers who can actually steal the stage. And everything else beside that seems particularly dull in comparison.

All in all I won’t say that I want those two hours of my life back but I’d much rather that Kenneth Branagh stopped doing things. He was wonderful in Much Ado About Nothing and even seemed an entertaining self-parody in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and I’ve heard tell that his Iago was magnificent. Even in Peter’s Friends, which I never did finish watching and things like Dead Again he seemed perfectly capable of playing his part so perhaps that’s were his strengths lie. Or perhaps in this case it was simply that directing something like Die Zauberflöte was much too ambitious, especially for someone who tends to lend realism to whatever he does and thus a fantastical opera simply wasn’t the best choice.
Thus my recommendation when it comes to this film: pick up your book on Masonic architecture and put the Georg Solti recording on in the background; it’ll be two hours better spent.


I suppose I should dig around for a production of Die Entführung aus dem Serail to complain about next then.


And in other news, the first mpegasus log is up: go on, tell me I’m doing it wrong.