Imagine you are one of Europe's most celebrated composers and that you have been invited to Paris to conduct a production of Richard Wagner's "Tannhauser" for the Opera Europa. You will be given a multinational cast of singers, musicians, and strong, bold sets which are meant to elevate the opera to its biggest heights. You arrive, feeling a little inadequate since Parisians are known for being artistic elitists, the Germans believe only they can produce such a magnificent masterpiece and you. Although you are accepted with applause, the pressure is on.
And then imagine that anything and everything that could possibly go wrong takes place with the increasing craziness of a domino dance. Musicians and singers both have unions and demand having more controls over the schedules. Artistic vanity runs amok within the actors, singers, and pretty much everyone else who has their own over-inflated self-importance. One young singer falls, has an accident, and cannot continue with the rehearsals. Another one, an American, receives a visitor from what seems to be an ex-lover, causing not only an inflamed jealousy in his current partner but a screaming match that ruins the American's voice. And on top of this, you, the composer, are not only at odds with your leading lady, but somehow have found yourself doing an about-face and initiating a torrid love affair with her. And your wife finds out. Which may ruin your marriage.
Not a good thing, if Tannhauser is to be produced. Istvan Szabo brings this elegant farce of love and opera as if he's been there himself: as a director, he could be telling this story as if he himself were Zoltan Szanto (Niels Arestrup) the composer. His view of Szanto is one that looks like compassion: this is a man who is trying, against all odds, to create something unearthly beautiful, but the very humanity surrounding him is the main obstacle and at times seems like it will succeed and Tannhauser will not survive. And then when he falls for Karin (Glenn Close in a role tailor made for her), he completely and irrevocably falls for her, but at times I wonder, does she feel the same for him too? A Diva has been known for creating a web of romance around her composer/director more than once. It's as if Istvan Szabo were telling us that probably the love she feels may be a well-practiced pose to ensure her moment in the spotlight. That all Divas do are make themselves available for the sake of their own vanity.
MEETING VENUS is a rarity of films because it never tries to be an easy farce and is too eccentric in its intertwining, very European characters. Plots aren't solved in the satisfying way that most ensembles would require: that is up to Tannhauser to do, itself as much a character as its human counterparts, to reveal itself like the flower that suddenly blooms at the tip of Szanto's bow despite the intrigues, the near-misses, and even the last-minute inability to even open the stage which reduces the performance to just that. And this is what makes a performance soar: its very presence, its own transcendence, the symbolic meeting and revelation of Venus among the audience.
And then imagine that anything and everything that could possibly go wrong takes place with the increasing craziness of a domino dance. Musicians and singers both have unions and demand having more controls over the schedules. Artistic vanity runs amok within the actors, singers, and pretty much everyone else who has their own over-inflated self-importance. One young singer falls, has an accident, and cannot continue with the rehearsals. Another one, an American, receives a visitor from what seems to be an ex-lover, causing not only an inflamed jealousy in his current partner but a screaming match that ruins the American's voice. And on top of this, you, the composer, are not only at odds with your leading lady, but somehow have found yourself doing an about-face and initiating a torrid love affair with her. And your wife finds out. Which may ruin your marriage.
Not a good thing, if Tannhauser is to be produced. Istvan Szabo brings this elegant farce of love and opera as if he's been there himself: as a director, he could be telling this story as if he himself were Zoltan Szanto (Niels Arestrup) the composer. His view of Szanto is one that looks like compassion: this is a man who is trying, against all odds, to create something unearthly beautiful, but the very humanity surrounding him is the main obstacle and at times seems like it will succeed and Tannhauser will not survive. And then when he falls for Karin (Glenn Close in a role tailor made for her), he completely and irrevocably falls for her, but at times I wonder, does she feel the same for him too? A Diva has been known for creating a web of romance around her composer/director more than once. It's as if Istvan Szabo were telling us that probably the love she feels may be a well-practiced pose to ensure her moment in the spotlight. That all Divas do are make themselves available for the sake of their own vanity.
MEETING VENUS is a rarity of films because it never tries to be an easy farce and is too eccentric in its intertwining, very European characters. Plots aren't solved in the satisfying way that most ensembles would require: that is up to Tannhauser to do, itself as much a character as its human counterparts, to reveal itself like the flower that suddenly blooms at the tip of Szanto's bow despite the intrigues, the near-misses, and even the last-minute inability to even open the stage which reduces the performance to just that. And this is what makes a performance soar: its very presence, its own transcendence, the symbolic meeting and revelation of Venus among the audience.