Operagasm: The Magic Flute, Act I

As previously established, the Mozart / da Ponte operas are batshit insane – they're full of cross-dressing, illicit sexual activity, mistaken identities, and even the occasional murderous living statue. I want you to keep that in mind, because that will give you a sense of perspective when I say that The Magic Flute puts them all to shame in the crazy department. The opera is so thoroughly bizarre and makes so little dramatic sense that it's a wonder anyone still performs it – but despite that, it remains one of the most popular works in the standard operatic repertoire. Most of the blame for Flute's general weirdness can be placed on the librettist, Emanuel Schikaneder (who shall henceforth be referred to only as “The Schikanator”), but it's hard to hold anything against a guy whose last name sounds like a SyFy Channel knockoff of a Schwarzenegger movie.

The crazy starts right when the curtain goes up: Prince Tamino, our fearless hero, is being pursued by some sort of monstrous serpent... dragon... thing. That sounds pretty awesome, right? You see that shit and you're like, “Tamino is about to pull out an enchanted sword and go all He-Man on that dragon's ass,” because that's what fairy tale heroes do: they kill shit. The opera is getting off to a great start, and then Tamino has to go and open his mouth – and instead of shouting “BEI DER MACHT VON GRAYSKULL,” he starts crying for help. And then he faints.

The Audience: Wow. What a little bitch.

The Rest of the Cast: I know, right?

But wait; it gets better. The opera suddenly turns into a German dub of one of those god-awful harem animes: three foxy ladies (imaginatively named “the Three Ladies”) show up out of nowhere, curbstomp the dragon, and immediately start arguing about which one of them is going to rape the unconscious Prince Prettyboy Tamino because he is OMG SO KAWAIII. [Cue high-pitched fangirl squealing.]

Now, some of you might say, “But Charlie! If a fairy tale like Snow White can climax (as it were) with a prince making sexual advances toward an unconscious woman, why can't Mozart and The Schikanator promote female equality by reversing those gender roles?” And in response I would laugh wistfully, shake my head, and paraphrase my favorite show about games, thrones, and throne-related games: “Oh, my sweet summer child, what do you know of Mozart?”

Seriously, though. The Magic Flute has a misogynistic streak so wide that its full title should probably be “The Magic Flute, ossia I Got 99 Problems and a Bitch is ALL OF THEM.”

But I digress.

The Three Ladies decide not to rape Tamino after all; instead, they just leave him lying unconscious in the wilderness.

Second Lady: Didn't we kinda go out of our way to save his life? And now we're just gonna leave him here?

First Lady: What's the worst that could happen?

Second Lady: Um... he could get eaten by a fucking serpent, apparently.

Third Lady: I'm comfortable with that. Let's go get hammered.

[Exeunt the Three Ladies. Tamino wakes up, hears some strange music, and promptly hides.]

The Audience: Oh, for fuck's sake.

But the opera immediately takes a turn for the better, because this new music heralds the arrival of Papageno, whose name is German for “everyone's favorite character.” Papageno is an eccentric, heavily-feathered bird-catcher, and the audience is supposed to identify with him because his only interests in life are food, booze, and sex.

The Audience: Sounds about right.

In case you're wondering why Papageno is the funniest and most interesting character in the entire opera, it's because The Schikanator actually wrote the part for himself – which is kind of a douche-y thing to do but no one cares because he's hilarious. And let's face it: if Papageno isn't your favorite character, you probably have a thing for coloraturas.

So yeah. Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law Papageno sings his introductory aria, meets Tamino, and almost immediately claims responsibility for slaying the dragon – because, much like the majestic honey badger, Papageno don't give a shit. The Three Ladies reappear and are understandably pissed that this feathered asshole has just taken credit for their handiwork, so they get out a golden padlock – apparently they always carry one in case of an emergency – and lock Papageno's mouth shut.

The Audience: Wait, what? How does that even work?

The Schikanator: I'm not gonna lie; I'm really fucking high right now and it just seemed like a cool idea. Hey, do you guys want a hit?

The Audience: Oh hell yes. Pass that shit over here, bro.

So then the Queen of the Night shows up and is all like, “Hey, bitches, check out my high F and my kickass coloratura shit,” and Tamino is all like, “Daaaaaaaaaaamn,” and the Queen is like, “But seriously, some dude just kidnapped my hot daughter and I need you to go rescue her and then possibly tap that fine ass. Think you can handle that, champ?” And then she gives Prince Wussypants Tamino a locket with a picture of Pamina (the aforementioned hot daughter) and he falls madly in lust love with her because this is a fairy tale and that's just how shit works. The Ladies remove the padlock from Papageno's mouth and tell him that he has to go with Tamino and help him rescue Pamina from the clutches of the sorcerer Sarastro.

And this is when things get really weird.

See, the Queen of the Night and her Three Ladies are actually evil (I would say “SPOILER ALERT,” but if you can't figure out that someone named the Queen of the Night is evil then you're a moron), but in the next scene the Ladies give Papageno and Tamino everything they need to win the day and give the opera its happy ending. Tamino gets the eponymous magic flute, which can control men's hearts and the elements and shit, and Papageno gets a magic glockenspiel (why a glockenspiel? WHY NOT) that can do anything the plot requires at any given moment. And to top it all off, the Ladies introduce the budding bromance two heroes to the Three Spirits, who make it pretty clear as the opera goes on that their loyalties lie with Sarastro (who is supposedly evil but then he turns out to be good and wise and holy crap I'm tripping balls).

In order to illustrate just how incredibly stupid that was, I will now provide you with an approximately equivalent situation:

Ringwraith: So, here's a map that shows you the secret way into Mordor and up into Mount Doom.

Another Ringwraith: Oh, and there's a giant spider-ish creature lurking in the pass of Cirith Ungol, but this phial of the Light of Eärendil should help ward her off.

Frodo: Oh. Wow. Um... thanks.

The Witch-King of Angmar: Also, we took the liberty of reforging Narsil for you. It's called Andúril now!

Aragorn: It's heavier than it looks.

The Witch-King of Angmar: That's 'cause it's so full of destiny! Just be careful with it; the blade is reeeally sharp.

Um... yeah. Long story short, it's a really dumb idea for a villain to give the heroes exactly what they need to complete their quest. The Three Ladies were clearly acting on the Queen's orders, so the only explanation that I can think of is that the Queen of the Night is attempting to commit the fairy-tale equivalent of suicide by cop. Either that, or she's just a complete moron – and neither option really inspires confidence in her ability to be a legitimate threat to the heroes.

Now, without a credible villain, you'd think that the rest of the opera would be a cakewalk for Papageno and Tamino – but thanks to a healthy mixture of gross incompetence, joining a cult, and some severe emotional issues, the story nearly ends in tragedy... TWICE.

The Audience: [facepalm]

And hey, speaking of gross incompetence: after the scene ends, it takes Papageno approximately two minutes to get separated from Tamino and the Spirits, get completely lost (keep in mind that while Tamino is a foreigner, Papageno has lived there his entire life), and stumble across Pamina in the middle of an escape attempt. Monostatos, Sarastro's Moorish slave (who is also evil because he's black for some unknown reason), recaptures the princess just as Papageno enters, and the two menfolk share the following exchange:

Monostatos: WHO THE FUCK IS THAT BIRD-MAN

Papageno: WHO THE FUCK IS THAT BLACK MAN

Both: OH SHIT IT MUST BE THE DEVIL

The Audience: oh wooowwww this is uncomfortable

And then Monostatos runs away because he's marginally more cowardly than Papageno is.

(At this point, you might want to take note of the following list:

THINGS MOZART APPARENTLY HATED

1. Women

2. Black people

3. That fucker Salieri

Hopefully that explains a thing or two.)

Papageno eventually figures out that the tied-up chick is Pamina and not some random bondage enthusiast (though who knows, the two might not be mutually exclusive). He talks about how he was sent to rescue her and casually works his massive blue-balls into the conversation, but Pamina puts him squarely in the friend zone because she wants to marry this Prince Tamino guy, who sounds totally awesome and is also totally nowhere to be found.

Papageno: But I want to get laaaaaaaaid

Mario: Hey, man, if I had a nickel for every time I rescued a princess and she didn't put out...

Link: Tell me about it.

Pamina and Papageno sing this beautiful duet about how awesome love is, and then the scene changes back to Tamino and the Three Spirits, who have arrived at Sarastro's temple. Tamino has an interminable extended recitative scene in which he is repeatedly denied entrance to the temple, and an old priest finally comes out to convince him that Sarastro isn't actually evil.

Priest: ...so he's really not such a bad guy after all.

Tamino: Servantofanevilsorcerersayswhat?

Priest: What?

Tamino: AHA!

Priest: You're a moron. Also, you might want to disregard anything that women tell you because they're all evil bitches.

And then Tamino plays his flute and a bunch of animals are entranced by the music and it's exactly as stupid as it sounds. Finally, he hears Papageno's flute and runs offstage just as Papageno and Pamina run on. The pair are captured by Monostatos and the other slaves, but then Papageno plays his glockenspiel (not a euphemism) and the slaves become enchanted and start dancing.

Papageno: That's right, bitches. Now twirl for me.

The slaves dance off into the wings but then OH SHIT there's a bunch of noise and Sarastro shows up with the chorus. Papageno hides; Pamina apologizes to Sarastro for some reason; Tamino shows up because apparently he was captured offstage like a little bitch; Pamina and Tamino make out; and Sarastro realizes that Monostatos is a skeevy fucker and orders the other slaves to take the bastard away and whip the soles of his feet seventy-seven times.

The Audience: Holy shit. That's... kinda fucked up.

The Chorus: LONG LIVE SARASTRO

[End of Act I.]