Review: Great Performances' _Madama Butterfly_ is gorgeous and the most depressing opera ever

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I enjoy opera, one of my deep dark secrets. I love the music and the spectacle of it, and when it all goes right, oh does it ever! So it was with great anticipation tonight that I sat down to take in a performance of Puccini's Madama Butterfly on PBS' Great Performances. Originally broadcast in April 2016 from the Metropolitan Opera in New York City, this is one of the most visually gorgeous versions of Puccini's opera that I have ever seen. Set in Nagasaki, Japan, in the year 1904, this highly romanticized story tells the tragic tale of Cho-Cho-san (Kristine Opolais), a young woman of samurai birth who enters into a 'marriage' with an American naval officer, Pinkerton (Roberto Alagna). She is so thrilled at marrying an American that she's converted to his faith, an act that will have tragic consequences for Butterfly later. Then there's Pinkerton, who as we learn from the get-go is an appalling cad. He's merely looking for a girl to keep him happy while he's in port, give him a comfortable home, and keep his bed warm. To him, Butterfly is nothing more than a convenience -- and the fact that she's just fifteen doesn't slow him down a bit. Working through a matchmaker, Goro and the American Consul, Sharpless, an elaborate wedding is conducted, with Butterfly's relations in attendance. Unfortunately, Uncle Bonze -- a Buddhist priest, shows up and given that Cho-Cho-san has converted to Christianity, pronounces a curse and orders her family to abandon her to her impious fate. Butterfly doesn't care. She's so blindly, blissfully in love with Pinkerton, and the first act ends with their spending their first night together. The second act opens with Butterfly still waiting for Pinkerton to come back for her. The poor girl has been waiting for three years, and the money is starting to run out, even with Sharpless paying the rent on the house. Things are, as they say, getting desperate. But there is another suitor in the wings, Prince Yamadori, a noble of great fortune who wants Cho-Cho-san to marry him. Butterfly, still deluding herself over Pinkerton, refuses him. What we discover towards the end is that she has a child, Sorrow, from her brief relationship with the American. A cannon is heard from the harbour, and using a spyglass, Butterfly rejoices that it is an American ship and Pinkertons, no less. As the act closes, we get to hear the sublime Humming Chorus, as Butterfly, her son, and her maid Suzuki sit up and wait for Pinkerton to arrive. At the start of the third act, dawn has come, and with it, no sign of Pinkerton. Having stayed up all night, Butterfly finally sleeps and so misses the arrival of the Americans, Pinkerton and Sharpless -- and Pinkerton's American wife. Evidently she's been informed of Sorrow, for she has agreed to raise him as her own. To compound matters, Pinkerton confesses that he's a coward and leaves Sharpless and his wife to do the dirty work. Butterfly finally comes to realize the truth, and so decides to send her son away with Mrs. Pinkerton, and restores her own honour by committing suicide by using the same knife that her own father used. I did say this was a depressing opera, right? This was originally based on a novel, Madame Chrysanteme, by Pierre Loti, and was adapted into a play, a short story and eventually the opera would spawn quite a few adaptations. It's a highly Westernized view of Japanese culture, and tends to take a rather patronizing view of Japan. That made me grit my teeth a bit while watching this, but to redeem itself, they did bring in some great elements of Japanese art and design. For this 2016 production, elements of Anthony Minghella's production was used, namely plenty of minimalist set design, and especially the use of bunraku for Butterfly's child, Sorrow. Bunraku is a traditional style of puppetry in Japan that is very lifelike, with the puppeteers masked and dressed in black. The costuming is a bit jarring, especially the use of colour in the women's clothing which looks like bad explosion of Sixties pop art. But the scenery of the end of the first act is breathtaking and exquisite, and enough to take one's breath away. Kristine Opolais as the lead does most of the heavy lifting in this one, appearing almost continually on stage, and she's in fine form her. Roberto Alagna is fine, but not great, and I came away with the feeling that he wasn't quite up to form here. Conductor Karel Mark Chichon makes his Met debut here as well. In Italian with English subtitles. Summing up, I would say that this was good, but not great. It does make a nice introduction to Madama Butterfly, but it wasn't enough for me to go through the trouble of finding a copy for my own video library.