Mozart's "Don Giovanni" is one of the great ensemble operas in the cannon.

But no one can deny the work, despite its rich music for its supporting cast, lives and breathes when the eponymous character remains focused and central. And in the hands of Swedish baritone Peter Mattei, there can be no doubt that Don Giovanni is dominant and ever-present.

Mattei, with his massive stature and potent voice, has little difficulty towering over the rest of his cast. But he is not just going for overpowering the rest of the characters, but truly takes the complex nature of the character to the fore. Just watch the contrast between his ferocious take on "Fin ch'han dal vino" and the polish of "Deh, vieni, alla finestra." In the former, Mattei bites at every consonant with relish and abandon, and in some moments his voice takes on an animalistic growl that threatens to explode into passionate violence. In the latter, Mattei's voice had a fluid legato, every single note carefully measured to create a glorious spell. During the second reprise of the aria, Mattei sang with even more delicate voice, thus forcing the audience to listen raptly to him. He sang with similar luxurious tone during the famous "La Ci Darem La mano" where his physicality with Kate Lindsey's Zerlina only heightened the intensity. His voice was in a constant crescendo throughout, emphasizing his growing desire. All the while he put his hands all over her until at the apex of the duet he grabbed and lifted her into his arms to carry her off, a nice reminder of his power and strength. There were violent impulses and even shades of vulnerability (his excitingly hushed and hesitant "Leoporello ove sei?" right after killing the Commentadore) that made the character all the more unpredictable and made the viewer extremely conflicted on how to react to him. On one hand, he marveled and charmed with his gallantry and hilarious playmaking (he imitated Luca Pisaroni's Leoporello in physical and vocal nature in Act 2), but his aggressive and brutal treatment of others, especially of Donna Elvira, made him hateful by the viewer.

That complex relationship was furthered by the relatability of the supporting cast, led by Pisaroni as Leoporello. Pisaroni could not be any more different from Mattei in their physical manifestations of their respective characters. While Mattei walked and stood with tremendous poise, Leoporello had a more slumped figure and even his walk was slightly more labored and hesitant. Vocally there was none of this labor or hesitance as Pisaroni's terrific bass-baritone sound rang through the Met's large auditorium. Leoporello's music does not require the lyrical finesse of Don Giovanni's writing, but plays with more rhythmic ideas. Pisaroni's attention to the text was apt and filled with wit. The singer told Latin Post that the catalog aria was among his favorite moments in the opera and watching him perform it made it clear as to why he feels this way. He toyed with every description, relishing in expounding his master's story even while watching the stunned Donna Elvira sink into despair. By the end, he was flirting with her and mocking with his humming at the very end. Watching him take "acting" classes from Don Giovanni was also a hilarious sight to unfold, but it reminded the viewer of exactly how different these two personages are and how despite his very admiration for his boss, Leoporello can never truly be Don Giovanni.

As Donna Elvira, Emma Bell presented a rather hard-edged voice that she put to excellent use. Hardly the prototype of "beauty," it was nonetheless expressive and fierce. Her opening aria "Ah chi mi dice mai" was filled with potent accents on high notes that gave off a rather aggressive picture of Elvira. Her singing was almost the impersonation of that famous saying, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." This more violent vocal characterization was compounded in ensuing arias (there was a tremendous fearlessness in the coloratura runs of "Ah fuggi il traditor"), but also balanced with a truly gentle "Mi Tradi" in which Bell sang with softer voice and more delicate phrasing. It actually created an interesting arc of a Donna Elvira passionate and angry to one despairing and lonely.

In the role of Donna Anna, Elza van den Heever brought a dark voice to the procedure. Her voice lacks complete clarity in the upper stratosphere, but its pointed nature added to the anguish and pain of Donna Anna. Of the two main Donna's, her characterization gave off the semblance of a more unhinged woman. In fact, her opening sequence in which she finds her dead father saw van den Heever move about directionless before fainting. The phrases were jagged, a depiction of her character's emotional turmoil. This Donna Anna never really gave the sense of fully recovering as the night wore on, the singing becoming increasingly vicious.

On the polar extreme was Dmitry Korchak's Don Ottavio, the proto-typical good guy. Everything about Korchak's singing spelled refinement. His "Dalla sua pace" was effortless and his reprise of the main theme was delivered in a mezza voce of unspeakable beauty and tenderness. The coloratura runs in "Il mio tesoro" were as polished as one could ask for, but here Korchak's Ottavio exhibited physical assertiveness and strength that was generally absent from the character throughout the night. It was actually quite interesting to see the towering van den Heever stand over her smaller lover, visually expressing the dynamics of the relationship.

Kate Lindsey had a stellar night as Zerlina. Her darker voice made the character more earthy and far less of an ingénue depicted in other performances. Lindsey, as displayed in her work as Nicklaus in "Les Contes d'Hoffmann," is a stellar actress if there ever was one and she made the often-relegated character become a major force. Her play with the veil in "La ci darem" added a comic touch to the moment but also deepened Zerlina's struggle for the viewer. Her aggressiveness toward Masetto during her two arias ("Batti batti" and "Vedrai, carino") emphasized which character was in control of the relationship. In each, Linsey utilized Zerlina's sexuality to win her man, also confirming the idea that this character is far less innocent than she lets on.

Adam Plachetka also delivered a nuanced showing as Masetto, his aria filled with sarcasm that eventually eroded into violent impulses. But the viewer could never take him for an ignorant fool but a man fully aware that his pride and love are on the line. His interplay with Lindsey, particularly in the tender moments of reconciliation made him a character to root for.

As the Commendatore, James Morris was authoritative, singing the full potency of his voice.

Another person to root for was conductor Alan Gilbert. His work with the New York Philharmonic has clearly made him a New York favorite (as displayed by the warm applause he received throughout the evening), and he gave them a masterclass in Mozart conducting like few others. His tempi during the overture were propulsive, and he never relented throughout the evening, the music unwinding with an unstoppable drive. And yet he managed to find those moments to truly open up the music and engage in Mozart's more romantic side. Exhibit A would be "Dalla sua Pace," and exhibit B would be the suspenseful recitatives that lead up to "Or sai chi l'honore."

Michael Grandage's production leaves little impression, aside from the hot flames that burst onstage in the opera's climax, but does allow its performers great freedom that, in this case, was taken full advantage of.

All in all, this is as balanced a "Don Giovanni" as one would hope for. The eponymous character stands above and beyond the rest, but the other cast members manage to carve out meaningful arcs for their characters that add layers of complexity to this most fascinating of works.

This review is for the performance on March 2.