You Only Sing When You're Drinking

The first half kicks off with humour, visual ingenuity and a healthy dose of Czech surrealism (must be something in the beer) – but not much of the sweeping grandiosity and power that opera can excel at, despite some fine performances. The second period however seems designed to make up for what the first lacked, while still retaining some of the inspired lunacy if not the humour.

Lunacy is very much the order of the day – the titular charcater spends much of the first half on the moon, seemingly as a result of a proper sesh down the local hospodye (pub to you). There he learns some valuable lessons about beauty and love from the moonmen and women, or he would if he wasn't so heroically wasted.

Most of the life lessons fall on fallow ground with Mr Broucek ending the act just as witless and belligerent as he began it. Perhap the more sombre second half, taking place during the Prague revolution of 1420, will awaken his finer nature? Nah not really – he turns deserter and the 15th century locals get just as pissed off with him as the lunar folks did.

In the meantime some memorable themes appear, alongside some finely wrought lessons in Czech history which are strangely resonant to the present day. Special mention goes to Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts, Anne Sophie Duprels and of course mad old Broucek himeself, John Graham-Hall who all excel in their roles, and to the set designer Alex Lowde and video designer Finn Ross who contribute striking and original touches to this entertaining and unhinged production.