Chelsey J. Forbess ’07, Nathan Troup and Tracy Reynolds performs as the Peachum family in Lowell House Opera’s production of “The Threepenny Opera” which follows the lives of those who comprise the London underworld.

Confusing, jagged and uncompromising, the Lowell House Opera’s (LHO) production of Kurt Weill’s “The Threepenny Opera” is, more or less, everything it should be.

Stage director Kate D. Greenhalgh ’05 and producer Sarah S. Eggleston ’07 put on a dangerously modern interpretation of a dangerously modern opera, originally written by Bertolt Brecht and translated into English by Marc Blitzstein. LHO’s show will run March 8, 10, 11, 15, 17, and 18, 2006 at 8:30 p.m. in the Lowell House Dining Hall.

Set in mid-eighteenth century Soho, London, the opera nonetheless captures the moral ambiguity and social insecurity of Weimar Republic-era Germany, the time period in which it was written. The story follows the extremely likable anti-hero Macheath (Brian Ballard), known as Mack the Knife, as he robs, cheats and womanizes his way into our hearts. His life intersects those of the miserly Mr. and Mrs. Peachum (Nathan Troup and Tracy Reynolds) the resentful prostitute Jenny Diver (Karoun A. Demirjian ’03), and the corrupt cop Tiger Brown (Nicholas N. Commins ’09) and his daughter Lucy (Kathleen A. Stetson ’03), but these characters are all colorful peripherals to the central character and story of Macheath.

Maybe the dominance of Macheath is only due to the fantastic performance of Ballard, whose wit, presence and voice give the opera a tremendous sense of power and severity whenever he speaks or sings, or even moves. His “Pimp’s Tango” commands the attention of both the wretched whorehouse and the captivated audience. His “Call from the Grave” is bone-chilling, even in a story that is for the most part black comedy, and his spoken-word acting is powerful and eloquent.

The most thematically challenging parts of the story (the fake happy ending, the “Useless Song”) are perfectly executed, but the intentional attempt by the performers and the stage director to alienate the audience and complicate the script often obscure the basic storyline. Very rarely do the actors interact with each other, choosing instead to act for the audience. Weill and Brecht do write scenes of the opera intended to be addressed to the audience, but the LHO actors tend to do it all too often.

While titled “The Threepenny Opera,” it might be more apt to call it a musical, as the work depends heavily on the spoken scenes in between songs. These interludes, which range from good (the first prison scene with Lucy) to baffling (the entire first act) are often compromised in this production by a reliance on overacting.

This issue results in two major detriments to the opera. Firstly and most practically, the dialogues often drag on a bit long because of the overacting, and it ends up making the opera a great deal longer than it needs to be. Secondly, the cast invokes very little audience compassion for the characters, most of whom deserve at least a little.

The spare set and lack of an overall visual theme hinders the production a little bit. There is a noticeable lack of atmosphere in most of the sets, but the colorful lighting and effective use of the rickety, dense scaffolding that surrounds the oddly placed stage usually make up for it. However, there are a number of times where one feels distanced from the action, not immersed in it.

On the other hand, the musical performances are perfection itself. This maturity and style in performance are certainly due to the LHO’s tradition of incorporating graduate students and professionals into the cast and crew. Every single performer, from conductor and pianist Harry Huff and the orchestra, to Macheath’s wife Polly Peachum (Chelsey J. Forbess ’07) and her “Barbara’s Song,” to Mrs. Peachum and her “Song of Sexual Dependency,” is a master of this music—which can be best described as “Cabaret” for more sophisticated listeners.

The two classic songs from the opera, “The Ballad of Mack the Knife” and “Pirate Jenny,” are so well-performed and well-sung that I doubt I’ll ever be able to separate the memory of the former from the wide-eyed stare and thrilling voice of John D. Kapusta ’09 as the Street Singer, nor the latter from the desperation of Demirjian’s Jenny.

The rest of the songs are fantastic as well, ranging from short, odd fragments, to grand ballads of sex, tragedy, and comedy. I have never seen Weill’s signature unison singing, quintessentially German sound, and schizophrenic jumps between tonal and atonal music pulled off so well.

Needless to say, the stubborn modernity (not to mention raunchiness) of this production is bound to keep some viewers from liking the opera.

Regardless of whether you end up enjoying yourself or not, “The Threepenny Opera” is definitely worth seeing. Take the chance that you might be floored by this twentieth-century classic.

—Staff writer J. Samuel Abbott can be reached at abbott@fas.harvard.edu.