The two very successful film versions of operas which have been sent over here recently from Italy--"Before Him All Rome Trembled" (La Tosea) and "The Lost One" (La Traviata)--have made some concessions to the customs of moviegoers. Each had talented and handsome actors, opera-type histrionics were minimized, the scenery was clean and smoothly pressed, and--most of all--the plot was made as plausible as a reasonable person should expect. In short, the producers were making a movie, not filming an opera.

The present tenant at the Kenmore, Verdi's "Rigoletto," was filmed entirely on the stage of the Rome Opera House with singers recruited from La Seals. There has been no attempt to make it anything more than a celluloid recording of a performance. No dialogue has been added (and subtitling the arias would be to no one's good). For those patrons unfamiliar with the Victor Hugo story, there is a vastly confusing precis of each act written on the screen before each curtain-rise.

Though "Rigoletto" is irritating for its failure to make use of the latitude the cinema offers, it is nevertheless a film no opera-lover should miss. Both vocally and dramatically, it is doubtful if a better "Rigoletto" could be arranged. Tito Gobbi, in the title role, is likely to make a lasting impression on the spectator. In both his sound and his fury, he is a thrill to hear and see. All of the other parts are well done; notably Anna Maria Canali as Maddalena and Marcella Govini as Gilda. I feared for a while that Miss Govini was a follower of the still-flourishing Jeanette MacDonald School of Cinema Singers--those unique actresses who manage somehow to sing through their teeth (or porcelain caps, as the case may be) and whose little tummies are never seen to be heaving for a breath. However, in this instance, pretty Miss Govini is only fronting for the beautiful voice of Lina Pagluigli.