In the ongoing battle between great operas and pretentious, self-impressed production designers and stage directors, the operas usually win hands down. After all, they have the advantage of all that great music, all the beautiful poetry, all the genius! And, here too, Korngold and his heart-melting opera "Die Tote Stadt" do emerge the victors, but just barely! There is so much to admire about this release. It's filming is state of the art, and should be a model for future attempts to put staged opera on the screen. The singers are universally fine, and it's Marietta, Angela Denoke, is a revelation. But if there were ever a production which showed utter contempt for the vision of the creators, it's this one. In the place of the braid of his dead wife's hair, Paul cradles a small doll, and strokes it's hair. He apparently has his wife's skeleton hidden under the floorboards, and during "Marietta's Lied" he strokes the skeletal hand. Later, he drags her shrivelled corpse around the stage with him. Marietta appears to be pregnant in act III, and, worst of all, in an opera which inspired hope in the ruins of post-World War I Germany, he inexplicably stabs himself to death as he sings his final lines. Yet, for all the intelligence insulting rubbish in this staging, I had a hard time not giving this release five stars, because when Marietta sang her final aria, tracing her past from the gutter to finding her own faith, I couldn't help but feel my heart leap into my throat, and couldn't stop the tears welling up in my eyes. But all that is to the credit of Mr. Korngold, and Ms. Denoke. They deserve eight or ten stars. Yet, complaints aside, anyone who loves Korngold, or the splendid intensity of late romantic opera should still see this, because in the end, it IS the opera that triumphs.