Well, here's Blanchard's first opera, which the Met decided to put on after Fire Shut Up in My Bones turned out to be such a hit (it's available on PBS 'til the nineteenth). In the introduction, talking to Blanchard, Peter Gelb remarks that "I think Puccini would be feeling very pleased with his successor." Somehow, I think that Puccini would have been totally baffled by everything about this, but who knows?
Anyway, Champion is about a boxer, Emile Griffith, who felt guilt because he killed a guy in the ring, and also was tormented by his sexuality. That's about it; most if it takes place in the past with young-Emile as played by Ryan Speedo Green, and then we also have some present-day stuff, and some collapsing of chronology, with Eric Owens as old, dementia-riddled Emile. And that's really it; there's not a lot of plot here. Though if you're wondering whether to see it, I should note that this is where you'll hear Stephanie Blythe sing "well fuck me sideways," which could be a deciding factor. In general, this is probably the most R-rated libretto I've ever heard.
There are a lot of great set pieces here; I have no problem with the music, and the colorful production is also super-fun to look at. But when you get to the actual supposed drama of the piece, it kind of falls down. When I first learned about this opera, I had the vague idea that the guy Emile kills was his lover, which would tie the two threads of the piece together neatly. But he's not; he's just some random guy who as far as we know has no history with Emile and then shouts a bunch of homophobic slurs at him. It's not that you can't feel bad about killing a guy even if you don't like him, and I may have sounded like some sort of psychopath for suggesting otherwise, but here, at any rate, it really doesn't work dramatically.
Likewise regarding Emile's sexuality; this whole thing is just really undeveloped. There are a few scenes in a gay bar, but we never see him with a serious partner or really have any idea of how being in the closet is affecting him. I'd say this whole thing could've used a pretty serious rewrite.
What the hell, though; it was fun to watch. If you think that this blog's radio silence means I haven't been seeing operas, you are incorrect. It's true that I'm not watching them at the frantic pace I once did, but it's still pretty much my favorite art form.
