Audiences Cringe at Flash of Failure

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Opera is typically viewed by young adults as a dull art form performed by singing fat people with fancy costumes. John Adams’s Doctor Atomic disproves this belief almost entirely—with the exception of his work being dull.

Throughout all of history, the atomic bomb has been the single item man has feared most. Its power is limitless, its effects dismal. It is no surprise, then, that this is what the plot of Doctor Atomic revolves around. The idea seems promising, as does the opening chorus. A number of actors are shown in what seems like rows of vertical boxes, with pictures of various scientists who worked on the atomic bomb project. The audience is moved to expect something gripping.

As the opera progresses, however, one comes to the realization that Doctor Atomic is merely a shallow report of the emotions held by the scientists assigned to the Manhattan project. The libretto reveals a few instances where dissenting scientists expose their feelings to J. Robert Oppenheimer (Oppie), main character and a head scientist of the project. In these instances, little is said about the other scientists and their stance on the bomb being used on Japan, just that it is inhumane to do so without proper warning and reason. It seems that the placement of these “revelations” at the beginning of the opera are used simply to show that Oppenheimer’s original view on the matter was that science and politics should not interfere with one another. By the end of the opera, Oppie cannot help but give in to his humanness and realizes that the bomb is not only a wonder of science but a deadly weapon that will be used to end innocent lives. It’s hardly plausible that the little interaction he had with the scientists during the first scene paired with his human nature gave way to a dramatic change in thought, so what else caused him to act thus? This is a question left unanswered.

On the subject of set design, Doctor Atomic provides a decent setting. The background of the stage is mostly dark, setting an ominous mood and notifying the audience that there is an underlying danger on the stage itself. And that danger is proudly shown. A five and a half foot “atomic bomb” that was made of a mass of plastic with wires hanging from its surface served as the Met’s take on the real thing. The bombs dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima where decidedly bigger, heavier, and intricate in appearance, which shows that the Met’s pride is their own blunder. The presence of the fake bomb on stage belittles the importance of the two bombs in world history, using plastic and common wires to amaze the audience. Doctor Atomic would have been better off not physically portraying the bomb at all.

If there is anything spectacular in this bomb of an opera, it lies in Gerald Finley’s baritone voice. In each scene, he readily applies himself to executing each line such that he can reach the audience’s insides (as displayed by “Let Me Inhale Deeply,” a praise to his wife). He succeeds in emphasizing emotion yet the empty libretto does not offer much insight to listeners. Unfortunately, the excellent performance of Finley’s arias in Doctor Atomic does not manage to overshadow its overall shallow and boring storyline.

So opera-goers: when faced with the decision to spend a sizeable amount of money on tickets to see Doctor Atomic, just say no. This is one case where you’ll wish you had instead seen possibly more entertaining fat people with fancy costumes.