I was present to review this film when it was first shown in London in 1968. Since then a generation has passed and one’s views on the work, its staging – and on video – have changed. Even then it seemed something of an unreal Karajan extravaganza based on his production in Wakhevitch’s huge sets for the Salzburg Festival of 1967. Now it has something of historic value, encapsulating a style now gone, for better or worse, probably better. The whole show rings false in the sense that all the characters look so immaculately dressed, coiffured and made-up that any sense of down-at-heel, dangerous Seville is quite absent. Then the gratuitous addition of dances from L’Arlesienne in the tavern scene and a few beauties to assist Carmen and her castanet before Jose – the last thing she would want is competition at that moment – and even the maestro’s ludicrous appearance at the end of Act 1 as a smuggler to mastermind Carmen’s escape, these are things that certainly do not help one to suspend disbelief. Add use of the now-discarded Guiraud recitatives, often carelessly achieved lip-sync and almost microscopic examination of Karajan’s hands during the Preludes and you might think the whole affair a write-off.
That would be to reckon without a performance of the title-role that will surely interest audiences today and in the future. Bumbry is Carmen without having to adopt any extraneous and unwanted display of her seductive powers. One move of her body or look of her eyes says it all in terms of sensuality putting Jose, Escamillo, Zuniga et al in her thrall, and her singing, svelte, smoky tone, firm, unexaggerated phrasing, is all of a piece with her magnetic presence. Besides, she is the best of the principals at lip-sync. Then there’s Freni’s admired Micaela at the peak of its achievement: warm, sympathetic, vocally and dramatically outgoing. Vickers’s mannered acting, singing and French accent do not wear well, though he is a great deal more sensitive than most Joses over phrasing and dynamics. Diaz’s voice at the time more bass than baritone, makes heavy weather of Escamillo’s insouciant music. The supporting cast is admirable.
Karajan’s tempos, as always in this work, err on the slow side, but he makes the most of the extra space by letting his singers and players caress and savour their words and notes. On LaserDisc, the sound is very good and surtitles are provided. There’s a good deal of competition. The Rosi film made on location and conducted by Maazel, now available as a bargain on Tristar, is a video feast and, as the CD soundtrack proves (Erato, 9/85), an excellent musical effort. Migenes is a more deliberately erotic Carmen than Bumbry. But the Glyndebourne/Hall/Haitink set is the one to go for, with a performance from Maria Ewing which surpasses even Bumbry’s, fine conducting, a full version of the spoken text, making this properly a play with music, and Sir Peter Hall’s authentic, sympathetic direction, all in goodish sound on VHS.'