Don Giovanni is titled a dramma giocoso. Most recent productions stress the drama, but this Nicholas Muni approach puts emphasis on the jocularity. He accomplishes this within the story of the licentious Don, some of whose actions are so outlandish that you have to laugh at them.

The legendary rake Don Juan leaves a trail of discarded lovers and mayhem in his wake and he laughs at the havoc he has caused. I’ve always thought of him being past his prime at the time of the action, because he appears unsuccessful in some of his pursuits. But the director sees the Don as no more than his mid-twenties. The Catalogue aria says he’s had over two thousand conquests. If he started in his mid-teens, that would come to two hundred a year—and that does not seem unrealistic. Basketball star Wilt Chamberlain, after all, wrote that he had sex with 20,000 women, staying active into his sixties. "That equals out to having sex with 1.2 women a day since I was fifteen years old," he bragged.

To illustrate this thesis, Muni portrayed sexual encounters at places in the opera where none were specifically written. While Leporello and Giovanni were singing a duet on the street, for example, this production showed the Don having his way with a woman while he continued to talk with his servant. This Don also was shown to be drawn to many different types of women, including an older lady with a cane.

Outrageous, you may say. But Don Giovanni is an outrageous person. He’s a sociopath who is indiscriminate in the women he seduces, and doesn’t pay attention to their feelings or desires, only his own. That’s the opera’s point.

The production doesn’t meddle with the place or time and it keeps the action flowing rapidly from indoor to outdoor locales. A plethora of picture frames serve a double purpose. They contain Goya-like images from Spain in the second half of the 18th century. The frames also epitomize Don Giovanni’s feeling that he’s penned in, restricted by society’s framework and moral codes.

Some options added humor and aid in our understanding of people’s choices. Donna Elvira, for instance, was shown getting drunk, which helped explain why she allowed herself to get involved once again with the duplicitous Don.

Even though I thought that Elliot Madore was youngish for the title role, he won me over with fine acting and good singing. His voice is smooth and attractive and his nuances were more than I had expected from a performer at his stage of development. The Leporello of Joseph Barron was believable and appealing. And David Portillo provided excellent vocalizing in Don Ottavio’s two arias.

As for the women, Michelle Johnson as Donna Anna displayed creamy high notes but a tame characterization. Amanda Majeski as Elvira had fine technique and glittering tone. Her vibrato made her sound a bit high-strung and jittery, which does suit her character. Cecilia Hall was a direct, no-nonsense Zerlina, the peasant girl who fools around with Don Giovanni on the very day of her wedding to Masetto (the sturdy Wes Mason) whom she says she loves. At least the Don “didn’t touch me where it counts,” or so she says.

George Manahan’s conducting was not all that it could have been. Pacing was often slow, and there was insufficient excitement.