TV REVIEW : Roman ‘Tosca’ Takes Stab at Authenticity

A more visually sumptuous yet gimmicky production of Puccini’s “Tosca” than the one at 3 p.m. on Sunday on KCET Channel 28 would be hard to imagine.

Each act takes place in the exact Roman setting and supposedly at the exact time specified in the libretto. Conductor Zubin Mehta and the RIA Symphony, located in a studio about 25 miles from the locales, communicate electronically with the singers.

“It is the technology of the 20th Century that makes this all possible,” a portly Mehta enthuses. “I put on earphones, I hear the singers, they see me on monitors . . . I see their actions on the television screen.”

Originally broadcast live last summer in Europe in real time, with acts at noon, 7 p.m. and 6 a.m. the next day, the production was conceived by Andrea Andermann and directed by Giuseppe Patroni Griffi. (Vittorio Storaro was the expert cinematographer.) Mercifully, this marathon has been condensed to two consecutive hours for the home screen. Brian Large directed.

Actually, the libretto isn’t all that specific about the time of the events. In two cases where it is--Scarpia’s instructions to admit Tosca to Cavaradossi’s cell at 4 a.m., or the indication of a “night-clear sky, studded with stars” at the start of Act III--the directions are disregarded. Act III here takes place in bright daylight. Maybe the sun comes up early in Rome.

Certainly, this has to be the most gorgeous “Tosca” we’re ever likely to see. The sun streams into the airy, barrel-vaulted Church of Sant’Andrea della Valle in Act I. Marble sculptures and Renaissance paintings reflect on the polished floor of Scarpia’s apartments in the Farnese Palace in Act II. The majestic dome of St. Peter’s commands the Roman skyline as seen from the upper terrace of the Castle Sant’Angelo in Act III.

One might be forgiven for not infrequently overlooking the singers to catch some of the breathtaking sights in the background.

Some of this splendor must have bothered the director, too. Why else make Tosca (Catherine Malfitano) and Cavaradossi (Placido Domingo) sing their first duet trapped within Cavaradossi’s huge painter’s scaffolding as if they’re singing under the boardwalk?

Other decisions are also strange. We see Tosca’s hand grab the knife to kill Scarpia, but not her face as she comes to this decision.

Of course, in close-up, Malfitano’s jealousy over the Marchesa Attavanti portrait being painted by Cavaradossi does veer toward certifiable insanity. But, elsewhere, she emotes quite credibly and sings with dark-toned power.

Apart from some tight steeliness approaching the top, Domingo sings with big, warm golden tones and even evinces some dramatic tenderness and heroism.

The close-up camera work probably best benefits the powerhouse Ruggero Raimondi as Scarpia. No, not in such ill-advised moments as his savoring the perfume on the Marchesa Attavanti’s fan. (Gee, what a sensualist Scarpia really is.) But rather in the tensions in his face as he realizes that his volcanic attraction to Tosca isn’t in his control. A masterly performance.

Others in the cast include Giacomo Prestia as Angelotti, Giorgio Gatti (Sacristan), Maro Buffoli (Spoletto) and Simone Scatarzi (the Shepherd Boy).

Mehta conducts with forceful efficiency. Since the sound of the singers doesn’t change from church to room to great outdoors, one has to wonder about discreet electronic enhancement, however.