Aria is a collection of ten short films by ten (mostly) major directors with one thing in common: they are all set to music from great opera. Despite the title, not all of the selections are arias. Because the specific titles of the shorts are not revealed until the end credits, I am going to identify them by director.
Nicholas Roeg, set to the music from Verdi's Un Ballo in Maschera: I am not a fan of Roeg's film, finding them all to be far too slowly paced, but this is probably his best work. It recounts the real-life an assassination attempt on the King of Albania in 1931. The picture looks very good, although the music doesn't totally fit with the subject matter.
Charles Sturridge, set to the music from Verdi's La Forza del Destino: Sturridge is the least well known director of the group. IMDB informs me most of his work is in British television, but he turns what it probably the best film of the set. Shot in black and white, this film recounts a group of kids who steal their parents car for a joyride. The end of the film is somewhat pointless, but the looks really great.
Jean-Luc Goddard, set to the music from Lully's Armide: I have to admit that either I didn't get this one or its just really stupid. Two hunky bodybuilders work out while two women take their clothes off and wipe the sweat off them. If it's supposed to be funny, it's not, and if it's a metaphor, I didn't get it. It almost like high class porn.
Julian Temple, set to the music of Verdi's Rigoletto: I guess Verdi is popular with this group of filmmakers. Temple's is the only film of the set that any substantive dialogue, and the opera is mostly used as background music. It tells the comic story of a husband and wife who cheat on each others, taking their lovers to the same place without realizing it. It's not that funny.
Bruce Beresford, set to the music of Korngold's Die Tote Stadt: Beresford's film is the shortest of the collection and one of the best. It's also the only one where the characters themselves actually sing. A man and a woman (Peter Birch and Elizabeth Hurley) sing to each other and have sex in 19th century Belgium, but unlike the Goddard film it's quite tastefully done and beautifully shot. Some of lip synching is pretty bad, though.
Robert Altman, set to the music of Rameau's Abaris ou les Boréades: Altman's film is clearly visually influenced by Milos Foreman's Amadeus, but doesn't have much on that great picture. It recounts an opening night of the Rameau's opera in which upper class society has allowed inmates from an insane asylum to attend the opera. The inmates do "funny" stuff. Aside from the unfunny comedy, it's one of the least Altman-esq of all of the directors films and is among the most forgettable.
Franc Roddam, set to the music of Wagner's Tristan and Isolde: Two lovers (played by Bridget Fonda and James Mathers) drive through Vegas and then have sex in a hotel room. There is a surprise ending that comes out of nowhere. The short looks nice but is pointless.
Ken Russell, set to the music of Puccini's Turandot: Like Roeg, Russell is another filmmaker I am not a fan of, but this is one of his least annoying films, a series of dreamlike images, apparently about a rich woman who gets into a car crash. It's not successful a whole but some of his images are striking and the idea is a good one.
Derek Jarman, set to the music of Charpentier's Louise: Like Russell's film, the idea is better than the execution. Although the picture is abstract, I think it's about an old woman remembering when she was young (the young version is played by Tilda Swinton). Some of the visual are nice but it doesn't add up to much.
Bill Bryden, set to the music of Leoncavallo's I Pagliacci: Like Sturridge, Bryden was a relative unknown in the film world, and is known primarily for his stage direction (Aria was his first film and he's done only three more). John Hurt plays an actor who serenades a woman with the iconic aria from Pagliacci (the one with the clown) and then dies on stage. The lip synching is off and, like so many other films in the collection, the short is pointless.
Although a few of the films are moderately good (Sturridge's and Beresford's are the best) none of these are brilliant, must see pictures, and ultimately the sum of Aria doesn't add up to much. An added problem is that the opera lyrics (which are in Italian, French or German) are unsubtitled, meaning that we miss the significance of what is actually being sung. Like so many anthology films that bring together great talent, Aria is a disappointment.
Aria (1987)