The success of any production of Death In Venice rests on two things: the singer playing Auschenbach, and the dancer playing Tadzio. If the reviews are to be trusted, this production gets it mostly right. It might be pointed out that Tadzio has been aged up to avoid bruising modern sensibilities, a move that may make audiences more comfortable, but which robs the work of some of its bite. ( (From The Guardian: "The boy Tadzio is older and more knowing than in the novella, which makes the fiction less credible, but he is a winning choice. At least half the audience could barely suppress their drools.") As you might have guessed, I'm not going to complain about Monsieur Boutin. I fully accept him as an object of pure beauty to be worshiped from afar.
