Betrothal at a Monastery @ The Theatre Royal

It’s not the most original story for a comic opera: Louisa is a young lady who trades identity with her chaperone so she can marry the poor man whom she loves despite her father’s wishes for her to marry the lecherous Mendoza, a rich merchant. Into the bargain the old maid fulfils her desire to marry into wealth. Positively clichéd it may be, but tell me where else are you going to see opera singers dressed as punk rockers with funky hair styles mischief-making in leather jackets and Goth make-up? Or a bunch of boozing monks singing drinking songs of debauchery, before reverting to a façade of propriety with a hymn acclaiming fasting and abstinence to a slower version of the same tune?

Scottish Opera has a shaky history when it comes to modernising The Opera. Their resetting of Orlando (originally a medieval swords and sorcery) in World War II was received with reservations by many of the ever-faithful, despite generous reviews. This tweaked interpretation of a little-performed 1940s work (performed in association with the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland) seems to have struck just the right balance between conservatism and originality. Less than all gimmick, the libretto, translated from Russian, is sprinkled with humour and sharp wit. Prokofiev’s music mixes that wonderful swooning quality inherited from earlier Russian Romantics with the modernist edge of a generation that embraced film score. It’s a shame that there was only a little choreography, as it was used occasionally to great effect.

The play climaxes with a frenetically kinetic fight scene, beautifully staged, that sees a chase round a monastery that draws in the whole chorus. This leads into the obligatory unravelling of misunderstandings between conflicting protagonists, the marriage of all lovers concerned, and eventual acceptance by Louisa’s father of her choice to marry the man she loves. Awww.