In the final moments of the Lyric Opera’s new production of Bizet’s Carmen, mezzo-soprano Sandra Piques Eddy came quite close to saving the whole show for me. She gave the groveling Don José (tenor Dinyar Vania) a look so filled with remorse, pity and regret that we forgave all of her cruel inconstancy — an expression so meltingly potent that we knew she felt far worse about ruining this poor wretch’s life than she did about the knowledge that she was probably about to die. It was a gratifying bit of real tragedy in what was otherwise a mixed night at the opera — the show opened on September 25^th at the Lyric Theatre and runs through October 4 — a sort of “Carmen Lite” that was nonetheless elevated by a handsome, versatile new set by the Lyric’s R. Keith Brumley, firm musical direction by Ward Holmquist in the orchestra pit and a captivating, vocally exceptional performance by Sandra in the title role. In her Lyric debut, she portrayed Carmen as a young woman prone to youth’s capriciousness: Not only did she look the part, but she built tension throughout with startling moments such as the above, which always felt driven by a strong knowledge of the character’s built-in contradictions. She sang with a clear, bright voice that was at times wobbly on top but thrillingly rich at the bottom.

Carmen revolves around the tortured relationship between Carmen and José, the electricity of which should send off sparks that ignite everything around it. Part of what hindered this from happening was Dinyar’s oddly muted, at times even detached portrayal of the hapless soldier ensnared by the gypsy Carmen’s fiery beauty. Playing José close to the chest is not inherently a bad thing, nor does it break any unwritten rules — but it has its perils. The role as written feels inherently over-the-top, and most of the truly memorable performances that I have known have been those that take the man’s abject misery and violent passion to near-unbearable levels.

Dinyar seems to want to make José into a man who is, on the whole, in control of his feelings, and at times this is effective: At the end of Act 3 he shows a tough exterior as he threatens Escamillo and Carmen, while simultaneously injecting huge pathos into his warm-textured tenor. But vocalized emotion is not enough in Carmen, and his ambivalence made for some odd moments: In Act 2, when Carmen challenged him to desert his unit and thereby utterly ruin his life, he acquiesced with surprisingly little angst considering the ramifications of his decision.

Bernard Uzan’s stage direction was nicely layered in the interaction between Carmen and José but strayed frequently into bizarre excursions otherwise. The “fate motif” heard first in the Overture was accompanied by a silent tableau foreshadowing the tragic ending — a technique repeated later in the opera — which overly literalized Bizet’s subtle psychological “suggestion.” In Act 2 Zuniga, instead of being carried away, was executed by firing-squad for reasons that were unclear. Most problematic of all was the inclusion of six professional dancers throughout, who presented elaborately worked-out accompaniments to the stage action. Eric Sean Fogel’s choreography was often effective, especially in the stately Act 4 toreador dance, and the dancers were top-drawer. But the overall effect of embedding Paul Tayloresque movement into the action was to wrench us repeatedly out of a sense of verisimilitude.

Marcelo Guzzo was an effective if uncomplicated Escamillo, which he sang with a burnished baritone that grew faint in the lower register. David Lawrence Michael as a studly, charismatic Zuniga sang with a voice as strong as a tree trunk. Alyson Cambridge was touching as Micaëla, especially in her deftly-acted “Je dis” aria, which had a sweetly sentimental flavor despite a somewhat forced upper range. Paula Winans’ children’s chorus of Act 1 sang with vigor and panache, though the overcrowded stage didn’t allow them to march around as much as one would have liked. Donald Edmund Thomas’ lighting design provided warm hues for the romantic scenes and a bright festive mood for the bullfight of Act 4. All in all, though, this Carmen felt like it hadn’t yet “gelled”: On opening night at least, it was still striving toward a coherent sense of direction and inner logic. It will doubtless grow stronger through the run.

For tickets to the Lyric Opera’s Carmen, call 816-471-7344 or go to www.kcopera.org.

To reach Paul Horsley, performing arts editor, send email to phorsley@sbcglobal.net.