Zeffirelli tries to sell Verdi to moviegoers primarily on the basis of costumes, candelabra, chandeliers, jewelry, flowers, furniture, pillows, confetti, streamers, colored lights, mists, and other such finery. The entire effect bolsters the impression that whereas movies are Come As You Are, opera is Dress Up -- and the moviegoer is apparently supposed to feel as near as he will ever get to La Scala, if not Heaven. What opera, or the operatic temperament, can actually do for movies, however, has been more meaningfully (and daringly) demonstrated by Zeffirelli in The Champ and Endless Love. What movies might be able to do for opera, on the other hand, apart from mere promotional work, is not shown to advantage here. It's true that the two stars, Teresa Stratas and Placido Domingo, make a good-looking pair of screen lovers, as few other possible combinations of soprano and tenor could. But much of the remaining effort to bring greater realism to the inherent inhumanness (or superhumanness) of opera is a waste. And the subtitles, which emphasize dramatic pace at the expense of musical pace, do more harm than help. (1982) — Duncan Shepherd
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