Like buses, antipodean productions of Gilbert and Sullivan operas seem to come in threes. It has been my sad duty to rubbish the last two Australian G&S productions to be shown on British TV. I am a kind person and an opera-lover so it gives me great pleasure to say that this is one of the best G&S production that I have ever seen.
If you were to compile a list of the best operas ever written, Gilbert and Sullivan's Patience would not be battling it out along with Così Fan Tutte or Gotterdamerung for the first three places. It would struggle to make the top 100. In fact, it would struggle to make the top 10 G&S operas. But sometimes, a director and a designer can seize an operatic ugly duckling and turn it into a dazzling white swan. So take a bow John Cox, who was the stage director for The Australian Opera Company and John Stoddart, who was the designer.
If you look at my byline, you will see that I live in Birmingham, England. Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery just happens to own one of the most impressive collections of Pre-Raphaelite paintings in the world. Don't all rush over at once. The last time I took an American friend to see them they were not available because the roof of the art gallery had collapsed. The reason I mention this is because the only comparable collection of Pre-Raphaelite paintings that I have seen is in the Art Gallery of New South Wales. It seems that Victorian Burghers of Birmingham, in common with their Sydney brothers, may not have known much about art but they did like paintings of flame-haired young women in long dresses.
John Stoddart captures this beautifully. The entire opera is a Pre-Raphaelite fantasy. You could watch it with the sound turned down and still be left breathless. There is a painting by Edward Burne-Jones called The Golden Staircase which depicts the most beautiful wives and daughters of Burne-Jones's friends descending a spiral staircase with flowing robes and resplendent hair. Stoddart brings this picture to life, with the most devastating effect.
The opera is a satire on the aesthetic movement. The main character, Reginald Bunthorne is a, thinly disguised, Oscar Wilde character. The twenty ladies of the chorus are all in love with him, spurning their former fiancés in the Heavy Dragoon regiment. Only Patience, the dairy maid is resistant to his charms.
This is an opera and, so far, I have not even mentioned the music. I have watched this film three times. The first time, because it was so unfamiliar, I found it pleasant. The second time, I found it interesting. The third time, I found it wonderful. The highlights for me were in Act II. A wonderfully comic Heather Begg as The Lady Jane sings Sad is that woman's lot, accompanying herself on double bass. Gilbert specified a violoncello but the larger instrument brings even greater enjoyment. Then there is the duet So go to him and say to him between Jane and Bunthorne, sung by the brilliant Dennis Olsen. The climax of the piece is the duet When I go out of door sung and manically danced by Bunthorne and Anthony Warlow's Archibald. This gets a well-deserved encore. The only slight problem with this production is that Christine Douglas seems to have acquired her English milk maid's accent by listening to Cilla Black. Still, that is a small quibble in a brilliant production.