For a new season, a new “Lucia.” The Metropolitan Opera opened its 2007-08 season on Monday night with Donizetti’s masterpiece of bel canto, “Lucia di Lammermoor” (based on a tale of Sir Walter Scott). In charge of the new production is Mary Zimmerman, a director well-known in theater but relatively green in opera. Her production is a success, and so was Monday night’s performance. To do a “Lucia,” you need, perhaps above all, a Lucia — and the French soprano Natalie Dessay took the role. She joins an illustrious list of Met Lucias, who include Sembrich, Patti, Melba, Tetrazzini, Pons, Callas, and Sills.

Ms. Dessay did not have a great Act I, although she had a passable Act I. Her singing was not as easy as it usually is, not as natural. She was a little clumsy in “Quando, rapito in estasi.” But she is a reliably intelligent singer, and a reliably intelligent actress. She knew what she was doing, and why she was doing it.

In Act II, she was in greater control of herself, singing with increased assurance and with that enviable dramatic skill. And speaking of drama: Ms. Dessay went on to have a top-drawer mad scene. She didn’t chew the scenery, and she didn’t underchew it (if I may). The madness she conveyed was truly affecting. And the high E flat she sang, as they dragged her away, was truly wonderful.

A group of men carried her body, slowly, slowly, up a long flight of stairs, as the audience screamed its approval – and screamed and screamed. For Natalie Dessay, triumph time.

Her Edgardo was Marcello Giordani, the Italian tenor. In Act I, he sounded rather more like an Otello than an Edgardo: rough-andready. This was not exactly a model of bel canto singing. Mr. Giordani was a little gulpy, sobby, and impure. And some passages were so shaky, you sat nervous in your seat.

But Act II showed him in better form. Both here and in Act III he did some stirring, heroic singing. He continued to have more strength than refinement, and he was guilty of some strangulation. But he got the job done and deserved his loud bravos.

In the part of Enrico was Mariusz Kwiecien, the Polish baritone. He sang with his customary excellence, and he sang with enthusiasm. What I mean is this: Mr. Kwiecien seems to be the type who just loves to sing opera, who’s just happy to be out there. Some singers have a hunger to perform. Not all of them do — even very good ones.

In general, Mr. Kwiecien was menacing and rich, as an Enrico should be. Occasionally, he forced just a little, and was on the verge of wobbles. But mainly he was inarguable, and his Act II, Scene 1 with Ms. Dessay was highly impressive — an instance of high drama.

Portraying Raimondo was the Canadian bass-baritone John Relyea, who has become a Met fixture. At the outset of “Lucia,” he sang with his usual regality, but also with the gruffness that sometimes besets him. But in Act II — practically everyone improved in Act II — he sang really beautifully. And he expressed the tender understanding of Raimondo.

Monday night saw the Met debut of a lyric tenor with a big future: That’s Stephen Costello, an American. He was Arturo, and, initially, he was a bit tight. But he was also focused, penetrating, and remarkable. He will graduate to the part of Edgardo soon — indeed, he will take it later in this Met run.

Another tenor, Michael Myers, was Normanno, slightly underpowered but appropriately sinister. The mezzo Michaela Martens was an adqeuate Alisa. And the Met chorus, on the whole, was accurate and energetic.

Leading this performance was the Met’s music director, James Levine. He may not be known as a bel canto man, but he is a musician, and can conduct anything. He had a handle on “Lucia” from beginning to end. The entire opera breathed through his baton. He had the orchestra playing meticulously, but not fussily.

You could have quibbled with a tempo or two: I thought some of Lucia’s Act I music was harmfully slow. But Act II’s sextet was just right — not just in tempo, but in feeling. And Mr. Levine’s sense of drama was unfailing. When Edgardo appeared inside Lammermoor Castle, your heart stopped — thanks to Mr. Levine. In all, Mr. Levine led a taut, smart, gratifying “Lucia.”

The orchestra’s horns struggled just a little, as is their right and destiny. And the cello solo near the end? “Ravishing,” to use the clichéd but apt word.

Many things can be said of Mary Zimmerman’s production, the most important of which is this: It looks and feels like “Lucia di Lammermoor.” But can’t that be taken for granted? I’m afraid not. Ms. Zimmerman, Daniel Ostling (sets), Mara Blumenfeld (costumes), T.J. Gerckens (lighting), and Daniel Pelzig (choreography) have stayed true to the piece. And that, of course, does not crimp imagination.

Act I is suitably gloomy — suitably portentous — with great Scottish skies. Also some serious-looking dogs and some enchanting snow. A ghost appears, and the same will happen later in the opera.

Lammermoor Castle is both sad and grand. On Monday night, a drape fell from a window, before its time. That probably won’t happen again. Enrico’s treatment of his sister, Lucia, is almost unbearable to watch — as it should be. During the sextet, the wedding party poses for a photo — strange, but not ineffective.

Act III features a big fat moon, somehow beautiful and horrible. Midst the Ravenswood graves, people carry umbrellas, looking like so many Neville Chamberlains announcing peace. “Lucia” ends with the extinguishment of light, not with a curtain — very effective. A couple of footnotes to Monday night’s story: Before the opera began, the Met’s general manager, Peter Gelb, asked for a moment of silence in memory of Luciano Pavarotti and Beverly Sills. Then, Mr. Levine conducted the national anthem, in his usual fashion: brisk, no-nonsense. Dotting the crowd were some legendary singers, including Marilyn Horne and Roberta Peters (a former Met Lucia herself). Also in the crowd were some legends-in-the-making (e.g., Anna Netrebko). It was an interesting and good night.

Until March 13 (Lincoln Center, 212-721-6500).