L'Opéra de Quat'Sous

In fact, Marc Blitzstein's off-Broadway adaptation of "Threepenny" was not so "bowdlerised" as is generally believed.

(I have a special interest in "Threepenny"; my dad was part of the first full production in the US; U of Illlinois Theatre Guild did it around the end of WW2. HJitler had been so nearly successful in suppressing the play that they had to reconstruct the script and score from recordings in two different languages {neither English}, a German prompter's script and similar sources.) Blitzstein's adaptation -- not a "translation" -- which had the full approval of Lotte Lenya -- was a lot closer to the original than generally believed.

The problem is that the version thereof that most people know is the MGM cast recording (recently available on Polygram on CD)(which includes Beatrice Arthur {as Lucy, the "big complete girl", and can't i see her hands on hips and shoulders thrown back on that line -- Bea was a major babe in the 50's}, Paul Dooley and John Astin) was heavily censored by Mike Curb, head of MGM Records -- i mean, 17 (i think it was) "Goddamn"s got cut to just "damn".

(At one time, MGM also offered a 2-LP set of the *entire* play, doubtless as heavily censored.)

I had no idea that Bobby Darin's signature tune "Mack the Knife" was originally from an opera. I'd heard of The Threepenny Opera, and had even seen snippets from the 1963 film adaptation, but when I popped in the 1989 remake and saw the opening production number, I was shocked. "Mack the Knife" is a song about the main character MacHeath, a thief and murderer. When he seduces a young woman, the daughter of the "King of the beggars", his prospective father-in-law tries to ruin him.

It's a comic musical, a bit offbeat, a bit over-the-top at times, and silly enough to make you imagine the actors cracking up in between takes. The ratty costumes are still somewhat frilly, and everyone looks like they're having a blast. Raoul Julia plays MacHeath, reprising his Broadway role; who would have thought he could sing? Richard Harris and Julie Walters play a combination of Fagin and the Thenardiers (why didn't they ever play the unscrupulous couple in Les Miserables?), and every time they open their mouths, they make you laugh. Roger Daltrey (from The Who) is the fourth-wall-breaking "singing chorus" who's everywhere and omniscient, and a young Bill Nighy is a crooked cop.

All in all, I think this movie will be an acquired taste. Check out the first ten or fifteen minutes, and if you think it's cute and fun, you'll like the rest of it. If you think it's too weird, stick with Oliver! For something more mainstream.

I remember when this version opened at the Chicago Film Festival. There was a reasonable about of excitement about it since there is no contemporary filmed version of Three Penny Opera at all. My conclusion after seeing it is that the big problem is that Three Penny Opera probably can't be successfully filmed at all and still capture the raw stage energy of the stage production. The very idea of the piece is the break the fourth wall between the actors and the audience. I think it's odd nonetheless that this version has never been transferred to DVD. I agree however that the criticisms of it are too harsh. Many a filmed musical from the 1980's and 1990's period has this same look and feel where all the energy of the stage version has been completely drained from the piece.

O.K. Folks, it ain't Brecht, but - the emperor doesn't have any clothes - the original Three Penny Opera is not a work that translates well from the Weimar Republic to our own era. i.e., I'm not so sure authenticity is that important. The sets are overbuilt, there is much too much Lionel Bart feel, but Julia is actually excellent, Mignenes is better yet, and Roger Daltrey's interpolations are kinda fun. Roger Ebert has the negatives right - there is a relentlessly `over-the-top' feel to the whole movie - but the Washington Post reviewer is nonetheless closer. It is quite an enjoyable movie despite the flaws. As to what can go wrong with filming this stage play, take a look at Pabst's 1930 version for a first-class mishmash.

The fact that most of the budget for this presumably went on the heavy-duty cast list shouldn't have mattered if it had been staged with flair and imagination and some sympathy for the original's satirical intent. Instead we get risibly bad song and dance sequences featuring picturesque beggars and whores, and the final alienation is accomplished by pulling back to reveal the action has taken place on a music-hall stage, appropriately enough for a production that's more Lionel 'Oliver' Blair than Brecht. The acting talent is shamefully misused: Migenes and Walters are good but don't have to try very hard: Migenes at least has a great voice and some feel for the material. Julia looks perfect as Mack, but struggles with the character, straitjacketed by a fake plummy accent. Harris's Peachum is embarrassingly mannered and Polly is atrocious. The adaptations of lyrics, script and music are often awkward: it was a bad move to base the film on Marc Blitzstein's bowdlerised Broadway version, but at least his words were singable, unlike most of what's been interpolated in gestures of faithfulness. And the attempt at overcoming the low budget by filming at claustrophobic angles on mist-shrouded sets lit in garish blues and oranges as if by some bargain-basement Vittorio Storaro fails utterly -- the film just looks cheap, shoddy and thoughtlessly made. Disgraceful.