Opinion is divided whether Richard Strauss’s opera Ariadne auf Naxos is a masterpiece or a mess. The first half is, in essence, a backstage musical with all the attitudinising and posturing expected of stage luvvies, as the richest man in town decides that the planned operas seria and buffa have to be played simultaneously, so that they both end in time for the fireworks display. The second half is the opera, with Ariadne, abandoned by Theseus, awaiting death and Bacchus arriving instead, and a comedy interlude from the commedia dell’arte troupe.

Opera North’s co-production with Gothenburg Opera, where it was performed in 2018, tips towards masterpiece. It helps that the comedy clowning is very slick. Thanks to a photo in the programme, we know they have been styled on characters in Fellini’s 8½, since the action has been relocated from 19th century Vienna to the studio of an eminent Italian film director in the 1950s.

As the soubrette-ish leader of the troupe Zerbinetta, Jennifer France is outstanding, though we don’t really notice until the second half, when her coloratura aria is a tour de force, her swithering between Harlequin and A N Other portrayed vocally as well as in action. Spoiler alert – in an added twist, the Other isn’t one of the clowns and she doesn’t choose Harlequin.

It is a nice point whether Elizabeth Llewellyn’s Ariadne is as much a one-man woman as she is described, given the alacrity with which she turns to ‘Hermes’. Yes, she thinks he is Death, but still … It is a bit of a thankless part, really, flouncing indignantly in the first half and lying on a rock for most of the second, but she allows herself to be amused by the antics of the clowns albeit she shoos Harlequin away when he approaches her rock. She does get to sing some glorious music and does so with panache.

Hannah Hipp’s Composer is fraught and highly strung, understandably so on such a big occasion for his career, but he is rather idealistic. There is a definite attraction between Zerbinetta and the Composer, however much he feigns to despise the music she makes, and his ode to music defies the pragmatism of Dean Robinson’s Music Master. He hangs around to watch the filming in the second half.

The petulant Tenor is very full of himself as the young deus ex machina, Bacchus, arriving in a golden chariot at the end of a crane, in white suit, golden laurel wreath and golden shoes. There follows an elaborate duet between Bacchus and Ariadne where both are under illusions and neither is listening to, far less understanding, the other. Ric Furman pitches it in a rather ‘stand and sing’ way, which feels right for the character and makes a good contrast with Llewellyn’s more clingy, emotional performance, still convinced he is ‘Hermes’. Hearing them together, one feels sure that death will not be long in Ariadne’s thoughts.

The Nymphs, in black evening gowns, black opera gloves and 18th century-style bouffant blonde wigs must be worn out waving their arms around as they comment on Ariadne’s state of mind. The long-suffering Major-domo (John Savournin) and the Dancing Master (Daniel Norman) add to the general mayhem in the first half with their respective instructions and suggestions.

Director Rodula Gaitanou, designer George Souglides and choreographer Victoria Newlyn have made this a very stylish production, echoed in the pit by the playing of the orchestra, conducted by Antony Hermus.