Opera Buffa, Opera Seria

Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.

AN: The duet "All'idea di quel metallo" can be found on YouTube done by various groups. You can get a fuller understanding of what is going on in this scene by watching one of the videos. (And be amazed by the operatic abilities the singers must have to sing the duet.)

Part 1. Opera Buffa

Hannibal settled himself into a wooden chair on the deck of the beach house. In his hands was the latest edition of the Los Angeles Times. The sun, low on the horizon yet, promised to scorch the beach sand later in the afternoon. For now a gentle breeze complemented the solar rays but the breeze was expected to die down later in the day.

It was a perfect midmorning to read and let nature lull him into a drowsy state of well-being if not an outright nap.

Face had gone into town to buy groceries and scam a long laundry list of items they would need for their next mission. He left a couple of hours ago, but not before first complaining that some of the things would be extremely difficult to get his hands on. Hannibal had merely laughed at him and told him to get moving before they all got so old they would need walkers and wheelchairs to go after the bad guys.

B. A. was tinkering with several bugging devices and transmitters. Once again, Hannibal was amazed at how deftly the burly Sergeant manipulated the smallest components into electronic devices the size of a one-inch diameter button.

And Murdock? Hannibal wasn't sure what he was doing. That was sometimes not a good idea. He hoped the pilot was somewhere far enough away from B. A. as to allow him to work undisturbed and doing something quiet and normal enough so as not to test the Sergeant's patience.

For a half hour, the atmosphere around Hannibal was filled with the faint cries of gulls skimming the surface of the water and the rhythmic lapping of waves on the beach.

He turned to the sports section where the main headline was game three of the World Series, the Baltimore Orioles against the Philadelphia Phillies.

From somewhere in the beach house, Murdock began to sing. It sounded like Italian.

"All'idea di quel metallo
portentoso, onnipossente,
un vulcano la mia mente
incomincia a diventar."

Not bad either, and I don't even understand what he's singing.

Hannibal smiled. He would have preferred nature's sounds but Murdock's singing was alright, too. Settling back to read the line scores of the baseball game, he sighed when the first guttural warning growl came to his ears.

I should have expected as much.

"Shut up, fool!"

"But B. A.! How'll Billy 'n' I be able to sing 'All'idea di quel metallo' t'gether if we don' practice?"

"There ain' no dog an' even if there were . . . "

"So yer willin' t' entertain th' possibility . . . "

"Did no such thing, fool!"

"You jus' don' like opera." There was a sneering quality to Murdock's retort.

"You got that right. An' I certainly don' like it comin' from you an' your stupid invisible dog!"

"Ah ha! Ya jus' said ya heard Billy singin'." The triumphant tone in Murdock's voice became one of curiosity. "So whaddya think? I figured Billy could be Count Almaviva since he's got a high tenor voice 'n' Figaro's usually a baritone like me."

"Ain' no dog, fool! An' dogs don' sing anyway. They howl an' bark."

"I'll have ya know, Big Guy, I taught Billy how t' speak and read Italian myself jus' so's he can do duets with me." Hannibal couldn't be sure but Murdock sounded serious about all of this. When Murdock got serious about something that drove B. A. crazy, it sometimes went too far. Someone could get hurt and it would likely not be the Sergeant.

Carrying the paper with him into the living room, the Colonel was just in time to find B. A. standing up with both fists clenched. One look at Murdock's face made Hannibal realize the pilot was caught up in the current delusion.

I wonder if he's been skipping his meds again.

Too late to think very much about that. He would make sure to check on it later. For now, he had to stand in as mediator between the two men and make peace. He dropped his unread newspaper onto an end table and folded his arms.

"Oh hi, Colonel. Billy 'n' I were jus' puttin' in some time gettin' somethin' ready t' entertain ya'll nex' time we have a campfire." He frowned, thrusting out his lower lip in a pout. "But th' Big Guy here gave Billy a bad case o' stage fright. Said he hated opera. Said Billy didn' sing good 'nough."

"Said he wasn' real an' can' sing at all. Get it right, fool."

He wanted to say the right words, ones that neither man would take the wrong way.

Why does it sometimes feel like when it comes to B. A. and Murdock, I'm negotiating peace between two hostile foreign countries before war breaks out?

Now that he was in the same room, Hannibal noticed B. A. had relaxed a little. He also noticed the components to the electronic devices were scattered across the coffee table as if they had been thrown aside in frustration.

Maybe it was time for B. A. to take a break from what he was doing and learn a lesson in tolerance at the same time.

He knew when he indulged Murdock's delusions, B. A. didn't like it. But the Sergeant wasn't about to go against Hannibal when he did.

The Colonel took a seat in the recliner and leaned it back. Folding his hands in his lap, he addressed Murdock while motioning B. A. to take a seat on the sofa. "Well, what opera are Billy and you rehearsing?"

Murdock blushed a little under the Sergeant's lingering glare. Then he flashed Hannibal a grateful lopsided grin.

"Il barbiere di Siviglia, The Barber of Seville. Rossini. It ain' the whole opera. Jus' one li'l part of it. I ain' memorized all the words t' th' whole opera yet."

B. A. groaned a rumbling protest over the thought of more musical interludes coming his way.

Hannibal had to admit to being impressed. He knew Murdock was multilingual and highly intelligent but memorizing an entire opera in its original language had to be tough. He must have spent quite some time on it.

"I'm somewhat familiar with the storyline. Which part of the opera are you doing?" He was pleased to see Murdock's grin widen with the prospect of an appreciative audience. The Captain was alone too much of the time between missions when he was back at the VA hospital.

He doesn't fit in with the other hospital patients and he tries hard to fit in on the outside with us. Is it so much to ask from us for the two of us to listen?

"You know the part in the first act where Count Almaviva's tryin' t' figure out a way t' meet Rosina 'n' he asks Figaro fer advice? It's that duet they do t'gether. 'All'idea di quel metallo.'" The pilot's eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm for his subject. "Now Billy ain' memorized th' whole thing like me but we can do it up t' where he has got it memorized."

Hannibal nodded and smiled.

"Ya ready, Colonel?" Murdock's entire face and body were animated with excitement over showing the two men what he and his invisible dog could do.

"Aw, Hann'bal!" B. A. grumbled, crossing his arms in disgust.

"Whenever you are, Captain. But maybe you should translate it into English as you sing it. It'll help B. A. and me understand it a little better being we don't have libretti in front of us." The Colonel raised his eyebrows in innocence when the Sergeant cast an especially dark look his way.

"Okie dokie. Here goes." Murdock repeated the lines Hannibal heard before the argument.

"All'idea di quel metallo
portentoso, onnipossente,
un vulcano la mia mente
incomincia a diventar.

It means 'At the idea of this metal portentous, omnipotent, a volcano within me commences to erupt, yes."

"Man, does that even make sense?" B. A. wrinkled his nose but Murdock ignored him.

The pilot affected the type of sympathetic pose he would take while listening to someone. He frowned after a moment and glanced at the Sergeant.

"I'm gonna hafta sing along with Billy. Ya scared 'im so much with yer angry talk, he's 'fraid he's gonna make a mistake. It's gonna mess up th' harmony on th' duet but maybe by then he won' be 'fraid anymore."

The black man snorted softly. He kept his opinion to himself this time after Hannibal shot him a warning look.

Murdock blushed again, turned in position as if he were the other person in the duet and began in a slightly higher tenor voice.

"Su, vediam di quel metallo
qualche effetto sorprendente,
del vulcan della tua mente
qualche mostro singolar.

Come, let's see what effect this metal will have on you, some real demonstration of this volcano within you, yes."

Without pausing, he switched back to the personage of Figaro and sang, "Voi dovreste travestirvi, per esempio ... da soldato. You should disguise yourself, for instance . . . as a soldier."

"A soldier?" B. A. straightened a little on the sofa.

"Shhh, B. A. Let him continue," Hannibal whispered.

"Da soldato? A soldier?" And Murdock frowned as if he, as the Count, were questioning the advice the barber of Seville was offering.

"Si, signore. Yes sir."

"Da soldato? ... e che si fa? As a soldier? . . . and for what purpose?" By now B. A. was following every hand motion, every emotional expression on the pilot's face as if he were intently watching a football game on the television. The idea of running around in disguise as a soldier evidently appealed to him.

"Oggi arriva un reggimento. Today a regiment is expected here." And as the barber of Seville, Murdock winked and raised his eyebrows as if waiting for the invisible Count to understand his meaning.

"Sì, è mio amico il Colonnello. Yes, the Colonel is a friend of mine." The pilot left character just long enough to glance at Hannibal and give him a warm smile.

"Va benon. Excellent!"

"Eppoi? And then?" As the Count, Murdock paced back and forth, clasping his hands together behind his back.

He stopped suddenly and assumed the persona of Figaro to explain.

"Cospetto!
Dell'alloggio col biglietto
quella porta s'aprirà."

By means of a billet that door will soon open."

Murdock was too caught up in the dual role he was performing to pay much mind to either man. He didn't even notice when the front door opened and Face entered, carrying a brown paper bag full of groceries.

Hannibal gestured for him to put the bag down and have a seat. The Lieutenant sank into the space beside B. A. on the sofa and raised his eyebrows in confusion.

The pilot finished Figaro's line and stopped when he spied his best friend.

"Che ne dite, mio signore?
Non vi par? Non l'ho trovata?

What say you to this, sir? Don't you think I've hit it right? Isn't it a fine idea, happy thought, in very truth? Oh hi, Faceman." He immediately looked at the Colonel and B. A. "That last part wasn' s'posed t' be there."

"Continue, Captain, Billy."

That warm smile appeared again and turned into a huge grin. "Well, this's the part where Billy 'n' I gotta do some harmonizin'. Here goes."

"Che invenzione prelibata!
Bravo, bravo,
in verità!
Bella, bella.

Isn't it a fine idea, happy thought, in very truth!" He paused to take some breaths.

Before any of them could applaud, he became Figaro again, holding his pointer finger in the air as if about to command attention.

"Piano, piano ... un'altra idea!
Veda l'oro cosa fa.
Ubriaco ... sì, ubriaco,
mio signor, si fingerà.

Softly, softly … another thought! See the power of your gold! You must pretend to be drunk."

He hesitated and stared into the empty space in front of him before turning to them, casting his gaze down at the floor at his feet in apology. "I'm 'fraid that's all the further Billy 'n' I got." Scuffing the toe of his shoe against the carpeted floor, he shrugged, his hands clasped together in front of him. "I hope ya guys liked it."

B. A. himself started the applause. Hannibal stood up and walked over to put one arm over the pilot's shoulders. "You and Billy did an excellent job."

Murdock peeked sideways at him before a shy hesitant smile brightened his face. "We been workin' on it for 'bout a week whenever I wasn' too doped up t' help Billy with his part. The nurses 'n' orderlies kinda thought I was havin' an episode. Took Doctor Richter t' tell 'im t' let me 'n' Billy practice. He knew we weren' tryin' t' cause any trouble by it."

"That was pretty amazing, what I saw of it, buddy." Face got up and joined Hannibal on the pilot's other side. He patted his friend on the shoulder. "You're going to have to do the entire thing for me sometime."

"Really?" Murdock looked at him in disbelief.

"Really."

B. A. leaned forward to pick up one of the devices he had been working on.

"Big Guy?" Murdock watched him begin to work on a micro-transmitter. Then he sighed in resignation and turned to walk away.

"Make sure ya learn the rest of it so I can find out what happens." B. A. grunted his approval without glancing up from his work. He didn't see the triumphant punch the pilot gave the air above his head or the smile passed between Hannibal and Face. The three men walked out to the deck to give B. A. some peace and quiet.

As they passed the end table, Hannibal glanced at his neglected paper. Some things were much more important than the play by play description of a baseball game.

Much more important.