Flying Mouse Cracks Up Seattle Sophisticates

Last Saturday night Seattlest trundled off to McCaw Hall for opening night of Die Fledermaus (running through January 28). We were a little doubtful about just how much fun the operetta (a word that means, "before there were Broadway musical-comedies") would be. General Director Speight Jenkins had cast some giant-voiced Wagnerians in the leads of a lithe, witty farce and it seemed counterintuitive, to be frank with you. With an icing-thin plot involving an extended, not-very-funny practical joke, Fledermaus only works if the Viennese tendency to waltz in the face of disaster perfectly balances the sad reality of a couple who have gotten tired of each other and are looking elsewhere for fun.

But we were happy to leave our intuition on the counter, because soprano Jane Eaglen (pictured with a gleefully self-infatuated Alan Woodrow: © 2006 Bill Mohn photo) stole every scene she was in. Radiating a cheerful bonhomie (a word that means "I vaguely remember taking French in college), she was the sweetly over-the-top heart of the show, a blend of Monty Python and Lucille Ball. (And that's not even counting the "Liebestod" she sang at the party scene in honor of the passing of Birgit Nilsson, special for opening night only, and you missed it so nyah nyah).

Director Chris Alexander had updated Fledermaus's yucks, so Eaglen got to toss off asides about Siegfrieds and desperate housewives, and won a roar of laughter when she spotted her petite maid Adele at the party in "borrowed" attire and barked indignantly, "She's wearing half my dress!" Alexander's staging didn't lean heavily on comedic restraint, underreaction, or any other kind of subtlety. (Seattlest got a bit tired of actors lining up for a few chorus line kicks. How droll! How unspeakably droll -- the first time.) At three hours and a quarter, that's a lot of zany stage business to stomach.

There seemed to be something for everyone: both critics at the Seattle Times and Seattle P-I found a lot to love, and the crowd was buzzing happily at intermissions. Part of that was due to the fabulous music streaming out of the pit, courtesy of conductor Gerard Schwarz and the Seattle Opera Players (a name that means "a big chunk of Seattle Symphony"). When the pratfalls onstage got distracting, we just closed our eyes and soaked up the sound. We were near the back of the second balcony and could hear every instrument easily.

Tickets are available online and start at $43. Evening performances start at 7:30pm; the Sunday matinee begins at 2pm.