Becoming Traviata, 2012.
SYNOPSIS:
French language documentary on the staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s opera La Traviata, celebrating the bicentenary of his birth.
Becoming Traiviata’s opening sequence shows the unhurried preparation of an opera. Workmen carry planks across the stage; paint brushes are framed in still life; programmes are tucked into audience chairs. But all the while, the sound of a nursery is played over the top, of children playing and a teacher occasionally talking. It jars with the images themselves. The French, I thought. Bloody pretentious bastards.
That the sound from a different film was accidentally being fed into our screen never crossed my mind. This was the London Film Festival, after all. I’d seen movies here before that had been far more up their own derrières.
The restart (with correct audio) revealed a patiently observational documentary, detailing a staging of Verdi’s opera La Traviata. It begins with rehearsals, with the actors and director fumbling their way through the text like children in the dark, slowly shaping Verdi’s characters and narrative into their own. It’s a fascinating process, and often quite engrossing. Especially when they sing.
Béziat often leaves his camera running uninterrupted on the actors’ performances in close-up, catching every vocal chord vibration. Natalie Dessay, who plays Violetta, and Charles Castronovo, who plays Alfredo, are the favourites. Their voices are stunning, and when they’re left to sing, the movie helps you forget your own existence. In a good way.
The best moments are when, after holding on the close-up performances, Béziat cuts to the opera’s director, Jean-François Sivadier. He watches, himself welling up at the sound; and we watch him. We watch the watcher. Cinema’s great when it makes you conscious like that.
Those moments, however, are few and contained only in the first 45 minutes. Béziat appears interested in all the opera production’s components. Set design, costume, make-up, orchestra, lighting and crepes. They’re all covered, but in scarce detail. Their segments sag after the singers’ high Cs.
That these departments can’t discuss their roles is a problem. Béziat seems so shackled to the ‘observational documentary’ that none of his subjects can address the camera. It means these interesting components are left unexplained and abstract. The film’s best scenes – all from the rehearsals – don’t need such contextualising.
Becoming Traviata lacks sufficient narrative, and at just under two hours, stretches whatever it does have over far too long. Those familiar with Verdi’s opera might enjoy the documentary, but there’s nothing to distinguish this from a very well-made behind-the-scenes DVD extra.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★
Oliver Davis is one of Flickering Myth’s co-editors. You can follow him on Twitter @OliDavis.