Any omnibus film comes with both good and bad
segments, and Aria is no exception, though there are
more successful vignettes than failures. Ten of the world's
most acclaimed directors were each given the task of interpreting
an aria into a film, in which the music would serve as the soundtrack
as well. It's a gimicky concept to begin with, but the pretentiousness
is limited to only a few segments.
Often with films of this nature, some directors
fail to leave their personal stamp on their segment, which is
always a shame. They're part of an omnibus for a reason, one
would assume. Luckily, all ten vignettes in Aria exhibit
something of their respective creator, and are clearly done
by different men.
Jean-Luc Godard uses his aria to touch upon two
women's issues of sexual shame and frustration, as they attempt
to catch the attention of a gym full of bodybuilders. They alternate
between caressing and admiring the men, to thoughts of killing
them, and finally end up pleading to be noticed, all to Jean-Baptiste
Lully's "Armide." This is the only use of excessive
nudity in the film that I don't think was overdone, because
the idea of the sexual objectivity of the human form plays into
the piece itself.
In his own distinct style, Julien Temple provides
a sex farce to Verdi's "Rigoletto" in which a married
couple each cheat on the other in the same kitchy hotel, and
only by fate never notice the other, though they have many an
opportunity to. It's the only completely comical vignette, and
also the only one with full sections of dialogue over the opera.
The other somewhat comedic piece is that of Robert
Altman, who looks at the world through satirically colored glasses.
His interpretation of Jean-Philippe Rameau's "Les Boréades"
places a throng of Eighteenth Century sanitarium patients in
the normally sophisticated and reserved setting of a Baroque
opera house. The mayhem and baudy sex acts which ensue turn
the focus from the stage (which we never see) to the audience.
Experimental filmmaker Ken Russell wraps up the
best of the segments with easily the most visual of the series.
Giacomo Puccini's opera "Turandot" serves as the backdrop
for what can best be described as gold-clad Egyptians surgically
adhering jewels on a woman with a Saturn-like ring orbiting
her neck. As strange as it may sound, it is gorgeous and transfixing
to watch. He suddenly reveals the reality, however, which is
that the woman has been in an automobile accident, and is actually
being bandaged and resuscitated by similarly masked medical
workers.
While I was expecting Nicolas Roeg's segment to
rank among these high-points, I was sadly disappointed. His
adaptation of Verdi's "Un Ballo in Maschera" not only
starts the film off to a slow start, but drags on longer than
any other vignette. The only element worth mentioning is the
strangely unexplained casting of a woman (Teresa Russell) to
play the lead male role, and this adds the element of gender
to the mix without any justification or apparent payoff.
I found too much in common between Beresford and
Roddam's pieces, and both suffer from the highest sense of forced
art in the group. Both are supposedly intimate love scenes that
seem more of an excuse to show prolonged, soft focus nudity
(of Bridget Fonda and Elizabeth Hurley, no less, in their film
debuts.) I have never been turned on by opera, myself, but both
directors either find it erotic, or want the audience to. Sadly,
they lay it on too thick to truly be effective. William Hurt's
"sad clown" performance ties the vignettes together,
and serves as the final aria, directed by Bryden, but lacks
the power to close such a varied and sometimes powerful series
of musical and visual movements.
All elements considered, Aria is an interesting
and engrossing experiment which wasn't completely successful
but was worth the effort. Even in the worst of the vignettes,
the music is captivatingly beautiful, and is the most consistent
strength of the picture. A must-see for any fan of opera (a
subject of which I must admit I'm highly ignorant) but perhaps
not necessary for other movie-goers. Unless, that is, you have
a strong desire to see some overly-artsy nude scenes with some
actresses who are now famous enough not to have to get naked.
