Modest Mussorgsky, Boris Godunov (1868-1873)

You know, I'm willing to be that there are an awful lot of people with no idea that this name is what "Boris Badenov" is a play on. Not that you couldn't find it in .3 seconds via the Wikipedia entry, but would you even think to? Anyway. I don't know what my point is, except that it's sort of interesting to go back to something that's mainly known, to the extent that it's known, via pop culture goofing around.

Anyway, Godunov was an actual historical figure, of course, but this opera surely is what explains his continued...popularity? This is an spectacular, extremely large-scale production of an extremely large-scale show, with hundreds of chorus members as priests, boyars, peasants and so on. The story in outline is fairly simple: Godunov is stricken with crushing guilt over having arranged the murder of the child tsarevich, facilitating his own rise to the throne, yearning to be a good ruler but ultimately brought down by his own sins. Meanwhile, a megalomanic or possibly just insane priest has become a pretender to the throne, and plots with Marina, a power-hungry Polish princess, to overthrow him. And the Russian people suffer. O how they suffer.

Godunov is played by the German bass René Pape, and it must surely be the part he was born to play. His performance is something else. His singing is great, and the way he staggers around the stage, twitching with irredeemable remorse--I mean, wow. And to top it off, he's an absolutely perfect physical fit for the role. This is totally how you'd picture the actual Godunov. He's played the role in numerous productions, and no wonder: if you can get him, it seems like you'd be foolish to want anyone else.

Obviously, Godunov himself dominates the opera. The director, Stephen Wadsworth, assertsthat there are basically just two characters here: Godunov himself and the people collectively. The chorus, therefore, plays a more prominent role than in most operas, and it truly does reach staggering heights. However, there are few other standout roles, notably Ekaterina Semenchuk as Marina hamming it up like some kind of anime villain and Andrei Popov as the holy fool who mourns all this endless suffering and whose song "Flow, Flow Bitter Tears" ends the opera on a tragic note that goes well beyond the character of Godunov himself. Russian really has had it rough, unto the present day. La tristesse durera.

If I'm going to be critical, I have to note that there are some parts where the whole thing seems a bit baggy. The entirety of Act 3--along with Marina's character--was not present in the original version, and although it certainly has merit (I should probably also give a shout-out to Yevgeny Nikitin, who may or may not be a neo-nazi WHEE, in a small role as a Sinister Jesuit--is there any other kind?), even while I was watching it, without knowing it hadn't always been there, I was thinking, boy, you know, this could easily be taken out and you'd lose nothing. It dulls the momentum after the towering end to Act 2. Then too, there's the whole of the last scene. Watching it for the first time, you would have every reason to believe that the opera would end with Godunov's death. But...it doesn't. It goes on for quite some time after that, in fact. And I have mixed feelings about that, because there's certainly some dramatic stuff there, and then that poignant ending, but Godunov's personal downfall feels blunted. I suppose it really depends on whether you think this is an individual tragedy or a collective one. I mean, clearly it's both, but I think with our modern sensibilities, we're more likely to favor the former, whereas Mussorgsky was going for the latter. So, it's something to think about.

Still, structurally flawed though it may be in some ways, this is really what I love about opera. Don't get me wrong; I like a nice comedy too. But something like Boris is just so massive and so powerful. I mean, granted, it's only a few years I've been into opera and less than that that I've been really into it, so this might partially just be the zeal of the convert, but I feel like, as the performing arts go, it doesn't get any better.