For the premiere of "Anna Nicole," New York City Opera rolled out a hot pink carpet over the entrance steps of the Brooklyn Academy of Music, lit the lobby with a rosy glow and festooned the ceiling with pairs of magenta disco globes and giant feathers.
The garish presentation made for a fitting introduction to Mark-Anthony Turnage's opera about tabloid and TV star Anna Nicole Smith.
Like its title character, the opera can be over-the-top and tawdry. But by its end, it is also a trenchant critique of a reality show-obsessed, materialistic culture and a compelling celebrity portrait.
Premiered at Royal Opera House in London in 2011 (the composer and librettist are British), the story begins as a group of gossipy reporters introduce the object of their fascination. For much of the first act, they join Anna (Sarah Joy Miller) and her family to narrate her early life in the fashion of an "E! True Hollywood Story" episode.
As she tries on various roles in an attempt to leave the backwater Texas town of Mexia, ("Muh-HAY-ah," as a song tells us), Turnage's panoramic score adeptly fuses styles, and Richard Thomas provides a libretto full of irreverent sing-song rhymes.
On opening night, many laughs seemed to come from the shock value of an operatic chorus at full voice telling Anna what she needs to succeed — implants, though that wasn't their word — as well as the profanities laced into the text. But there is more to the piece, and director Richard Jones and the cast skillfully allow for glimpses of humanity within the show's burlesque (in more ways than one) exterior.
As young Anna desperately tries to leave Mexia, Turnage casts a country tinge on the music as she line dances through a story about falling in and out of love for the first time. A heavy blues suits a group of Walmart workers in identical masks and wigs and segues smoothly into the slink of the gentleman’s club where Anna finds preferable work — and meets her golden ticket in the form of octogenarian billionaire J. Howard Marshall II.
Miller dives into the role, mugging for the cameras as she coos, "I want to blow you all … a kiss" — the tagline for the show’s promotional materials. She swings an arm over her head and vigorously circles her hips as she sings of success. She also handles the challenging vocal writing with strong command of her not-huge but attractive soprano.
In addition, she shows nuance when she sings of her son Daniel, and we see uncertainty and discomfort around Marshall as she demands he give her a ranch.
As he says, there’s no free ranch, and Anna earns it.
After she does, in a jarring moment she sings — seemingly addled by the painkillers she takes following her surgery — that she wants to "rape the American dream."
In another startling stroke, just before intermission, a dancer dressed as a camera turns to face the audience. After that, we begin to see Anna’s world from her perspective. It’s not the last we see of the camera, and instead of passively watching her, we become aware that she’s always being watched, and we see the toll it takes.
The sickly harmonies and the bite embedded in Turnage’s intelligent score become more pronounced as conductor Steven Sloane culls a versatile, animated performance from the orchestra. Jones’ quips give way to more revealing depictions.
The villainous lawyer Stern (a vibrant Rod Gilfry) eggs Anna on to perform for her audience. Marshall (a lively and affecting Robert Brubaker) trades his shameless pursuit of the flesh for an earnest aria about aging. On "Larry King Live," forced laughter becomes chilling coloratura as Anna’s dignity dwindles.
Miriam Buether’s sets morphs vividly from the pink Mexia trailer to the flashing lights of the strip club and a cocaine-fueled party. Instead of a mansion, an unappealing mattress tellingly represents Marshall’s home. Costume designer Nicky Gillibrand conjures an imaginative and spot-on array of outfits for Anna and the large ensemble.
The portrayal of Anna can seem insensitive, and the giddiness of some early scenes can grate. When 10 years pass during an instrumental interlude, a screen covered in hamburgers comes down as we watch Anna gain weight. There are no missed opportunities to mock her intellect.
Yet when tragedy strikes, she becomes a sympathetic figure. As described by the star’s mother Virgie (an expert Susan Bickley), she is a cautionary tale. At the show’s conclusion, her pre-intermission tirade echoes as one realizes that no amount of "American Dream" riches could have satisfied her.
City Opera’s financial troubles are daunting. The organization needs $7 million to finish its 2013-14 season and has asked for $1 million on Kickstarter. As of the morning after opening night, they were just over $105,000; the campaign ends Sept. 30.
"Anna Nicole," which is co-produced with BAM as part of the Next Wave Festival, is a work worth presenting. With its large scale and ambiguous protagonist, it was not the safest choice, and there may be no choice that could save the company. But if it does turn out to mark an ending, it’s certainly a way to go out, as Anna might say, with a bang.
Anna Nicole
Where: BAM Howard Gilman Opera House, 30 Lafayette Ave., Brooklyn
When: Tonight, Saturday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Sept. 27-28 at 7:30 p.m.
How much: $25 to $235; call (718) 636-4100 or visit bam.org
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