Bánk bán

The film figuratively comes off the screen with spendor and lyricism. As it is a rendition of the famous Hungarian medieval opera and photographed lovingly by (Hungarian-American) Vilmos Zsigmond, performed by Hungary's best operatic voices, a presentation of sumptuously beautiful landscape and classical architecture, "Bank ban" holds a tremendous treasure for the viewer. Images haunt one's unconsciousness long after the experience.

I'm personally surprised at the low rating presently for Bank Ban. The opera was new to me, but that didn't stop me from watching this opera film as a lifelong fan of opera and someone who liked Eva Marton. Apart from an overlong intermezzo and one scene that didn't fit with the libretto, the film was excellent. Shot in a very cinematic and fluid way and using very authentic locations that respects the period and style of music, it is very pleasing to look at. Musically, Bank Ban positively soars, thanks to Erkel's stirring score and orchestral playing of great power. The drama is very convincing, translating from opera to film with the drama you'd expect from an opera performance minus perhaps the sense of spontaneity without feeling stage-bound. It also does justice to the characters, who are the sort that are more complex than they appear to be, the titular character especially. The performances are wonderful, and the singing glorious. Special mentions go to Andrea Rost, singing beautifully with a lot of vocal and dramatic subtlety, and Eva Marton, shrewish and commanding as Gertrud with a rich voice that cuts through the orchestration with less of the wobble she had late in her career.

In conclusion, a really excellent opera film and the opera itself is very interesting and stirring stuff. 8/10 Bethany Cox

Given the cinematographer of this movie, it's probably not surprising that the visuals are superb. The directing is also first-rate, not stagy at all, but still managing to leave plenty of room for the singing. Csaba Káel managed to combine some of the best parts of film and opera. We get both the intimate moments that film is capable of showing, and the grand majesty of the chorus singing amidst a splendor of costumes and sets. Special kudos to Andrea Rost for making full use of this opportunity to act out the small things; her Melinda is completely human, a rare feat for a character in an opera.

The sound in the theater where I saw it was somewhat brassy, as if the volume was set louder than the capabilities of the speakers. Thus I'm not sure if the orchestra was really as overpowering as it sounded in places. This may or may not be something to improve upon.

Overall, the costumes were good at evoking a feeling of time and place, without giving more than a cursory nod to period-correctness. This is probably good, because the music itself is firmly planted in 19th century romanticism; true 12th century costuming would have felt wrong. I did have one minor nitpick with one of the guardsmen shown at the very end: he's wearing the usual opera shorthand for chain mail, something silvery-metallic. At the opera, this would work fine. When it's shown larger than life on a movie screen, it's downright jarring. If the production didn't allow for real mail, perhaps they should have avoided any notion of armor.

Two more very, very minor nitpicks: 1. The intermezzo part, with people dancing around a fire, was allowed to go on for too long. 2. The staging of Melinda's journey conflicted with the lyrics (they're singing of the difficulties of foot travel, all the while riding on a horse-drawn cart).

These criticisms are really very minor and inconsequential. Overall, the film is quite satisfying. The setting looks real (probably because, apart from one small interior, it was all filmed on location), the plot is nicely developed and explained, the roles are all well-cast, well-sung, and well-acted (there wasn't a ham in the bunch, which is a minor miracle), the special effects flow perfectly, and the music is gorgeous.