Hollywood in the 1990’s when pill popping and snorting Coke accompanied the ranks of “joint-rolling” and an upward swing among the young in cigarette consumption.   

Rival film producers are here at the root of the plot’s aggression, violence - and ultimate tragedy. And indeed film as the raison d’être rules this concept by director, Marie-Eve Signeyrole with various cameras (including the Sony hand-helds of the era) in almost constant use by both the protagonists and two designated crew alike. A wall-to-wall projection screen serves as a dominating - and at times distracting - feature, and one which easily disadvantaged the real-life protagonists and their efforts on the stage below with oversized extraneous images (Roméo’s Ah! Lève-toi soleil being one example).

Two cabriolet cars parallel the rivalry between the clans - with a silver Fiat Barchetta dominating as Juliette’s symbol of freedom - and ultimately as the logical vehicle of her demise.

Technically the first scenes of the evening flowed easily with a revolving set of boxed spaces serving the action succinctly. Thereafter, there were awkward moments in adding props (such as the cars) and in the manual re-positioning of structures for post-interval scenes (staging - Fabien Teigné). 

The costumes by Yashi were well modelled to compliment the physiques of the protagonists, while taking outlandish advantage of the Capulets’ Act 1 party in a decadent orgy of exotic designs to match any imaginable Hollywood bash.
  
The characters were all well-defined (with some figures naturally dominating), and included Brian Michael Moore’s bitingly-nasty Tybalt, Leon Košavić’ sonorous Mercutio, Brett Pelegato`s resolute and undeniably sly Capulet, and with the role of Gertrude flirtatiously embroiled in West Coast panache as a colourful vehicle for the delightful Carole Wilson. Svetlina Stoyanova further stood out with her well-turned Stephano.

Bruder Laurent is no conservative priest here, but an isolated partygoer, who strips before the camera to expose his chest tattoo and whose sexual advances are rejected by Juliette just before her nuptials with Roméo. With hard-edged timbre, Daniel Miroslaw well embodies the sinister streak in this reading which fires his jealousy toward Roméo, the object of Juliette’s desire. A nice cameo.

Julien Behr quickly established his character as the male romantic lead with his fine lyric tenor and solid vocal technique providing an ideal mix for the role’s demands. His ample vocal substance, stamina and passion - in addition to an appealing stage presence - proved a perfect foil to his Juliette while well scaling the testing ensemble scenes, both vocally and dramatically.

Building upon numerous Austrian successes (including Euridice last season in Salzburg`s Orfeo, and as the Vixen in this Company’s opening production of 2022 in Janáček`s The Cunning little Vixen) Mélissa Petit presented a well-rounded Juliette with sufficient facility to nail the vocal acrobatics of her opening aria while serving the role’s more expansive lyrical passages with ample reserve. The never-ending close-ups on screen revealed extraordinary Betty Davis-like eyes, and a gamut of facial expression mirroring a modern-day rebellious and highly-sexed young woman of determination….right up to the point when she starts the engine of the Fiat to seek her death in the poison of the roadster’s exhaust fumes.        

Complimenting the soloists, The Arnold Schoenberg Chor - a gem in the MusikTheater an der Wien company - as ever, pristine in both their vocal and stage work contributions.

In the pit, Kirill Karabits guaranteed for a generously-romantic sweep and impeccable balance between stage and pit in the less-than-ideal acoustics of the Museums Quartier, and with the ORF Radio-Sinfonieorchester in impeccable form.