In 1897, the Vienna Opera needed to decide which version of “La Boheme” to mount, as two composers had published it relatively contemporaneously. Accordingly, they sent their music director-designate, Gustav Mahler, to Venice to hear each on consecutive nights. Mahler wrote back that “one bar of Puccini is worth more than the whole of Leoncavallo.” The latter, however, had a stronger relationship with the administration of the time, and it was his “Boheme” that was presented the following season.

Mahler’s instincts turned out to be right, of course: The Viennese choice closed after only six performances and, except for the occasional historical revival, never surfaced again. The Puccini has become the most beloved opera in the entire repertoire. With a new leader and cast, it has returned this fall to the stage of the Metropolitan Opera, where I attended the Saturday matinee.

Conductor Philippe Auguin, a former assistant to both von Karajan and Solti, is a Frenchman living and work ing almost exclusively in Germany. He is best known to Met fans as the man who stepped into the breach when James Levine canceled out of Ferruccio Busoni’s “Doktor Faust” in 2001. Mr. Auguin led a brisk, no-nonsense “Boheme,” including a notably straightforward Musetta’s waltz. Emphasizing the swelling quality of the pit orchestra’s powerful string section, he unleashed its fortissimo forces because he was aware that the singers in this production could project at a high enough volume to make the artificial quieting of the instrumentalists unnecessary.

Both principals were undaunted by this challenging need for resonance. Roberto Aronica possesses a strong lyric tenor that can surely be heard in the back of the balcony. He had little trouble hitting his high notes in “Che gelida manina,” but encountered considerable ill luck in holding them, as each almost instantaneously collapsed like a punctured balloon.

Hei-Kyung Hong, as Mimi, was a little more secure in pitch control, but never succeeded in delivering the requisite poignancy of the role. Like Mr. Aronica, she was a bit overexposed to audience adulation, and may have been striving too hard for it. Mr. Auguin conducted this verismo piece as if it were a Verdian “number opera,” pausing for applause even when it never came. The pair also assumed frozen poses after virtually every bit of melodic interchange. Even for a matinee of “La Boheme,” this was too much.

The lesser characters were a motley crew. I am all for nontraditional casting, but Vladimir Chernov is so much older than his three mates that he appeared an avuncular rather than a fraternal Marcello. Musetta’s choice between him and the old roue was rendered moot, if not ridiculous. Mr. Chernov had some bouts of inaudibility with which to contend, but was his usual solid baritone nonetheless.

Brooklyn native Richard Bernstein delivered a strong and impassioned “Vecchia zimarra” in Act IV, and Sebastian Catana was best at the slapstick stage business that characterizes this now rather tired Franco Zeffirelli production. Alexandra Deshorties as Musetta stressed superiority in her thespian abilities over her vocalizing ones.

In terms of stage business, this “Boheme” falls far short of the mark. The cartoonish acting style gets old quickly; the young men in the garret turning into the four stooges – complete with spit takes – when the landlord appears at the door is simply over the top. Director J. Knighten Smit deserves praise for having to manage more than 100 people on the stage at the same time, but it is questionable why he needs to be so dexterous. Compared to the Ponnelle production of “Manon” I heard the night before, where the choreography and the costumes are such an integral part of the plot, this staging revealed itself to be bereft of serious coups de theatre. Without any prolepsis in the second act, the illness of Mimi comes literally out of nowhere.

Mr. Zeffirelli’s set designs are also suspect. The loft is presented in cutaway style, but its openness suggests that the artists are struggling on a veranda in Martinique rather than a hovel in Paris. Even with some token flitting about the stove, no one ever looks cold in this production.

It is easy to forget how daring “La Boheme” was to the audiences of the 1890s. During that trip to Venice, Mahler worried about “the perils inherent in the subject.” For better or worse, we are almost never shocked any longer.

“La Boheme” will be performed again November 12, 15, 18, 22, 26 & 30, and December 3, 6, 9 & 15 (Lincoln Center, 212-362-6000).