It was a queer fantasia at the Met Opera on Thursday evening as artist-director William Kentridge's new production of Alban Berg’s Lulu opened to thunderous applause.

The genius production, lead by the incomparable Marlis Petersen in the title role, isn’t for the faint of heart: Lulu treats her lovers (male and female) like they're disposable, and is even responsible for the brutal murder of one of her many husbands.

But underneath the harsh reality of that story, there’s an overwhelming sense that Lulu's been used—abused even—by a society that punishes women who aren't afraid of their sexuality.

She’s searching for something in each of her lovers, and her destructive journey could be viewed as a parallel to how many gay men search for affection in all the wrong places.

Yes, you actually feel bad for Lulu at the end—despite the fact that (spoilers!) she brutally shoots her husband five times in the back, cons her lesbian fling (the legendary Susan Graham) into take her place in jail, and makes love with her dead husband’s son—all pretty much at the same time.

Sounds like an episode of American Horror Story, no?

And there's the eerie presence of another man, Schigolch, who might be Lulu’s father, Lulu’s ex-lover, or perhaps both. And yet, the audience chuckles, not gasps, about the ambiguity of the situation.

Who wouldn’t want to have the power to attract such attention?

That power ultimately ruins Lulu, but you can’t help but be drawn to Peterson, dressed in a men's dress shirt and smoking a cigar. In her crafty hands, the femme fatale seems almost, well, butch.

The audience on opening night was gayer than usual, too, even for the Met. There were plenty of same-sex couples holding hands at intermission and more guyliner than at a Mac counter.

Part of that may have to do with the buzz about Kentridge, a domineering force in the visual-art world.

This is his second Met production, after the acclaimed staging of Shostakovich’s The Nose in 2010, but his Lulu will go down as one of the greatest, if not the definitive, productions of the opera.

Kentridge infused the performance with his signature styling—video juxtaposed on the stage with the performers—and the result was nothing short of thrilling, even with a nearly four-hour run time.

But a queer energy runs throughout the show: In addition to cigar-chomping Lulu and her sapphic paramour, there's a female dancer on stage throughout the opera, performing on a baby grand piano. She interprets Lulu's inner turmoil, and it’s no coincidence the two women lock eyes and embrace.

We gays love our tragic divas—Maria Callas, Judy Garland, Whitney Houston, et al. Lulu might just be the operatic equivalent of a gay icon.

Lulu runs at New York's Metropolitan Opera through December 3, with a live screening at movie houses nationwide on November 21.

Bryan Buttler is the editor of G Philly and a contributor to Philadelphia magazine. Follow him on Twitter at @bryanb82.