Dreamy Il Divo is an audio and visual delight

February 04, 2006|Jonathan Perry, Globe Correspondent

Reprinted from late editions of yesterday's Globe.

This is not your mother's Pavarotti. Unlike the prodigiously talented, prodigiously waistlined Luciano, the four hunks who comprise the pop opera sensation Il Divo are awfully, well, dreamy. The product of a worldwide talent search (a la the Monkees), spearheaded by ''American Idol" loudmouth Simon Cowell, the quartet is composed of American tenor David Miller, French singer Sebastien Izambard, Swiss tenor Urs Buhler, and Spanish baritone Carlos Marin.

Last year, the group's self-titled debut album moved units fit for rock stars, not opera singers, reportedly breaking Led Zeppelin's old record as the only band to hit number one on the Billboard charts without the release of a single. This week, Il Divo's follow-up, ''Ancora," also shot to number one on Billboard, knocking Jamie Foxx from the top position. At Thursday night's sold-out concert at the Wang Theatre -- only the second show of their first world tour -- they all looked great in formal wear, of course. But here's the kicker: They can all sing, too. When the quartet lit into ''I Believe In You (Je Crois En Toi)," the house swooned in instant recognition.

It's official: The men of Il Divo are superstars (for irrefutable evidence, one need only check the merchandise table, where tour T-shirts and posters were selling as briskly as the white wine in the lobby). For 90 sometimes vocally astounding, sometimes profoundly silly minutes last night, Il Divo acted the part like urbane Backstreet Boy toys, but with far better vocal chops. They graciously accepted rose bouquets from the women who traipsed to the stage for a closer look at the suave dreamboats. They bantered with each other in an exchange of supremely cheesy dialogue as canned as Rat Pack hijinks. Oh, and they also did a fair amount of singing: alone, together, and in pairs, which was at least as polished as their stage chatter.

Augmented by a five-piece rock-ish combo and a 20-piece orchestra -- the instrumental interlude/theme song to ''Live and Let Die" bought the lads precious time to change costumes -- David, Sabastien, Urs, and, especially, the bombastically hammy baritone Carlos reveled in the satiny pillow talk of ''Everytime I Look at You." Both ''Isabel" and the encore-closing ''My Way" and ''Heroe" were florid heaps of outsized loveliness. Just like all those bouquets.