La flûte enchantée

It is not surprising at all that having been a long-time an admirer of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's music and especially his opera "Die Zauberflöte" ("The Magic Flute"), Ingmar Bergman has adapted it in one of the best and enjoyable operatic film ever made. Watching Bergman's presentation of "The Magic Flute" does not require from a viewer an extensive opera-going experience or familiarization with all his often morose psychological studies. "The Magic Flute" (the opera or/and the film) can be enjoyed on different levels. It has many hidden philosophical and political references which were relevant back in 18th century but it is also a beautiful and poetic fairy tale which has many funny scenes (thanks to Papageno, the bird-catcher) as well as lyrical and tender scenes between two young lovers, and the dark ones with the sinister sorcerers. I've seen "The Magic Flute" in the different countries, in different versions and adaptations but I enjoyed the most Ingmar Bergman's vision of it. In 1975 National Society of USA Film Critics awarded Ingmar Bergman with a Special Award - for demonstrating how pleasurable opera can be on film. There is nothing I can add only that Mozart + Bergman+ Flute = Magic.

The Queen of the Night (Birgit Nordin) offers his daughter Pamina (Irma Urrila) to Tamino (Josef Köstlinger), but he has to bring her back from her father and priest Sarastro (Ulrik Cold). She gives a magic flute to Tamino and magic bells to the bird hunter Papageno (Håkan Hagegård), who follows Tamino and wants to find a wife. The duo travels in a journey of love and knowledge.

Ingmar Bergman's adaptation of the last opera of Mozart to the cinema is a homage of the master to the opera and theater. Sang in Swedish and divided in three parts, Bergman shows faces of the audience in the overture (I particularly did not like this part); the first act; the intermission, showing the backstage; and the second and last act. The cast in general is very beautiful, highlighting the singer Irma Urrila. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "A Flauta Mágica" ("The Magic Flute")

Some opera-buff acquaintances of mine have called Ingmar Bergman's movie of "The Magic Flute" the only good opera film ever made. While I don't know enough about opera to be able to accurately judge that, this movie is certainly a delightful experience. Sung in Swedish by a cast of photogenic Scandinavians, the film both looks and sounds wonderful.

With its fairy-tale plot and passages of spoken dialogue in addition to singing, "The Magic Flute" is already a very accessible opera. Bergman accentuates this by taking an unpretentious "Opera for Everyone" approach, exemplified by his close-up shots of audience members' faces as the overture plays. His production mostly has an 18th-century rococo/ Neoclassical look, though there are a few jarringly modern touches, such as writhing dancers in the last scene. Other than that, this seems a pretty faithful (if shortened) version of the opera that captures its comedy as well as its serious themes.

Mozart's music is both gorgeous and character-appropriate: lyrical arias for aristocratic lovers Tamino and Pamina, powerful coloratura for the vengeful Queen of the Night, folksy melodies for the bird-catcher Papageno. Papageno, a lovable Everyman type, is probably my favorite character in the opera, and Hakan Hagegard does the role justice. Ingmar Bergman's movies are known for their focus on human psychology, and even though "The Magic Flute" is a fantasy, the cast members make their actions believable. They do not just stand and sing like divas; they become tangible human beings.

This collaboration across the centuries between two great artists, Mozart and Bergman, yielded a lovely result. Highly recommended for novice opera-watchers and serious opera buffs alike--though I'm sure many opera fans have already seen this treat of a movie.

I first saw this movie when I was in my teens, and it was the first opera experience I truly loved. Since I now work in opera, that was ultimately a very important event in my life! Bergman manages to achieve the impossible--a perfect synthesis of drama and music, the visual and the aural. (Years ago someone told me he thought that opera--the art that combines drama with music--ended up by denigrating both forms, and I don't completely disagree with that.) But in this almost magical movie, all of the flaws inherent in the piece (and there are many--poor dramatic structure, confusing story line, nonsensical plot elements) are ironed out, or somehow don't matter. Visually, it's sumptuous, thanks to Sven Nykvist's usual gorgeous cinematography, and aurally it's quite pleasing, despite some pretty mediocre singing--but thanks to Bergman's genius, that doesn't matter, either. Because of his careful work with the singing actors, every intention and dramatic impulse is realized, all motivations are clear--something you never see on an opera stage. Of course, much of it is impossible on an opera stage.....Bergman can use close-ups where opera can't. And a little ways into the opera, one realizes that gradually, imperceptibly, the stage has "opened out", and we're on sets and in places that would never be possible in a theater. He makes it all work, seamlessly.

In a way, the beautiful 18th-century Drottningholm Court Theater is a secondary star--one can't imagine a more perfect place for this opera to be performed. But the real star (among the singer/actors, at least) is Håkan Hagegård. There is no more beautiful and charming (both physically and vocally) Papageno imaginable--he became an international opera star a few years later. He more than compensates for all the other weak vocal links in the cast.

You'll never see a better "Magic Flute" than this.

Adapting theater to the screen is not easy. It is difficult enough to film a play; staying too close to the text can render the tone too "stagy," while "opening up" the story can cause it to lose its authentic feel. Filming opera is twice as problematic- there is so much that is rooted to the stage and simply cannot be pulled away. How is it possible to film something that has been performed in such a specific, disciplined way for hundreds of years and keep all the elements fully intact? The answer has been provided by Ingmar Bergman, a man known to most of the world for harrowing films which peer unsentimentally into the depths of the human soul. With "The Magic Flute," Bergman takes another great talent of his- theater direction- and combines it with his cinematic abilities to create an elaborate fantasy that even his detractors can enjoy.

Rather than just treating Mozart's opera as a story to be filmed, Bergman relies on familiar themes within the narrative to strike a balance between the stage and the screen while keeping the audience involved throughout. This is not to say that the story is simplified or made abundantly clear to any half-attentive viewer; the surprising accessibility of the film comes not from any reconstruction of the story but rather from an emphasis on elements that today's audience can easily recognize: sacrifices that are made for love, rebellion against the amoral nature of one's community, and magical occurrences that pop up just in time to save the hero, to name a few. Although the opera itself unfolds on a stage, with frequent reaction shots of the audience, Bergman's direction keeps us so deeply involved that tone is distinctly that of a film. Indeed, `The Magic Flute' proves to be a very cinematic opera, and there are moments when the imagery, theatrical as it is, becomes so overwhelming that Bergman has to cut to the audience to remind us that we are in a theater.

`The Magic Flute' is evidence that the `epic' existed long before movies, and that much of what we enjoy viewing today owes its style to stories that have been told through vastly different mediums for centuries on end.