People make major messes, bloody and otherwise, in the new Metropolitan Opera production of Ambroise Thomas' "Hamlet" (1868), the French grand opera, which bears passing resemblance to William Shakespeare's play of the same name and which returned to the Met repertory this month for the first time since New Year's Day 1897. In this "Hamlet," conducted by Louis Langrée, directed by company debutants Patrice Caurier and Moshe Leiser, and designed by Christian Fenouillat (sets), Agostino Cavalca (costumes), and Christophe Forey (lighting), making Met debuts-all of whom were roundly booed by the March 16 opening night audience-the melancholy Danish prince noisily knocks metal mugs and other tableware off the banquet table, pours blood-red wine all over the white table cloth-and himself-and wraps himself in the bloody fabric, after "The Murder of Gonzago," the play within the play, designed to confront Claudius and Gertrude with their guilt. Hamlet also shreds a painting of Claudius and menaces Gertrude with a wooden stick that was part of the frame. Ophélie, wearing white wedding dress, as well as bridal veil and a pillow, suggesting hysterical pregnancy, and losing the latter two, in her mad scene, does predictable violence to large bouquets of flowers, before turning a dagger on and bloodying herself. And the gravediggers dig into real dirt and dump shovels-full onto the stage. I don't fault Langrée for his idiomatic performance, or even the production team, which offers no stranger a spin on "Hamlet" than has marked many a modern-day Shakespearean play production. The second of eight performances, on March 20, is the one reviewed here.

By the way, we have not been entirely "Hamlet"-less these 113 years. I heard the opera twice, when Sherrill Milnes took up the role: on February 17, 1981, at Carnegie Hall, thanks to the Friends of French Opera (FoFO), with Sharon Bennett (who?) as Ophélie, and Nell Rankin and Ferruccio Furlanetto as Gertrude and Claudius, led by FoFO's Robert Lawrence, and on September 14, 1982, at its New York City Opera (NYCO) premiere, sung in English translation by Andrew Porter, with Ashley Putnam as Ophélie. I remember the NYCO production as a pretty, and pretty traditional, one, which the current Met one determinedly is not. Here, blood-streaked walls rearrange themselves to represent different locations and, frankly, they suffice. Thomas' "Hamlet" has its highlights, even beyond the two familiar ones, Hamlet's brindisi, "Ô vin, dissipe la tristesse," and Ophélie's mad scene, "À vos jeux, mes amis," which bel canto singers have kept alive in recital. Hamlet's encounter with his father's ghost; the big concerted ensemble that concludes Act Two, in which Claudius expresses his consternation at seeing the murder reenacted, Hamlet wildly repeats his drinking song, and everyone else remarks on his rashness, or madness; and Hamlet's confrontation with Gertrude, in Act Three, are among the other high points. This is not to say that the opera is not without longueurs, which you may wind up spending translating lines from J.D. McClatchy's Met titles into Italian librettese, à la Giuseppe Verdi, or Anna Russell.

Best of all, the Met "Hamlet" serves as a terrific vehicle for baritone Simon Keenlyside, playing the titular prince as a tortured soul, who broods on the recent changes in Elsinore Castle-his father's murder, and mother and uncle's marriage soon after; spends more time acting out against mother and stepfather than acting to avenge Hamlet, Senior's death; and waxes agitated, then introspective again-in the recitative at the start of Act Three and ensuing "Être ou ne pas être," the "To be or not to be" monologue-concerning his procrastination. He doesn't step out of character for the bravura brindisi, but treats it, aptly, as a disturbing expression of Hamlet's edginess, before presenting the play to "catch the conscience of the king."

We have another strong singing-actor in soprano Marlis Petersen, who replaced Natalie Dessay when she withdrew from the role of Ophélie. Oblivious to Hamlet's obsession with his duty to avenge his father's death, which precludes his focusing on anything else, including his relationship with her, Petersen's Ophélie unravels in response to the prince's neglect, starting in "Sa main depuis hier," in the second act, and culminating in the mad scene, her tour-de-force, which occupies the entire fourth act. Her sound is crystalline, though some of the highest notes sound reached for, and white, or vibrato-less. She deserves credit, however, for her valiant effort in singing them when stretched out on the floor, near the end of her assignment.

Though unflatteringly coiffed, her hairline starting mid-scalp, like a horror movie heroine or the older Queen Elizabeth I, and garbed, her yellow and then purple gowns accentuating the pallor of makeup, mezzo-soprano Jennifer Larmore's quirky vocal production and jerky movements fully convey Gertrude's jitters and guilt. Bass-baritone James Morris contributes a sturdy Claudius, who has the opportunity to express his guilt over murdering his brother in his prayer, "Je t'implore, ô mon frère." Met newcomer Toby Spence makes his presence felt as he lends a clear, strong tenor to Laërte's solo, entrusting his sister, Ophélie's care to Hamlet, as he departs for Norway, and later duels with Hamlet to avenge Ophélie's death. David Pittsinger is an eerie, sonorous spectre. Liam Bonner as Horatio, Matthew Plenk as Marcellus, Maxim Mikhailov, new to the Met, as Polonius, and Richard Bernstein and Mark Showalter as the gravediggers complete the slate of singers with distinction. Joshua Wynter, barely in drag as the player queen, receives intimacies from Peter Richards as Gonzago, and a kiss on the lips from Christian Rozakis as the king's killer. A solo saxophone, unusually, plays florid figures to accompany parts of the play-within-the play, and English horn and oboe strikingly add mournful commentary in other scenes.

Remaining performances of "Hamlet" are on March 24 at 8 p.m., 27 at 1 p.m., and 30 and April 2, 5 and 9 at 8 p.m. Jane Archibald (debut) sings Ophélie in the final two repetitions. For tickets, priced from $15 to 375, telephone 212/362-6000, visit www.metopera.org, or go the Met box office at Lincoln Center. Rush tickets, for $20, are available at the box office on the day of performance, from Monday through Thursday.