Laurent Pelly's production of Donizetti's lightweight comedy was originally built around the extraordinary talents of Natalie Dessay and Juan Diego Flórez. Now that they've moved on, some of the glamour they cast over the rest of the show seems to have gone, too. The dialogue drags. Routines that were formerly spick and span look cheesy, so eager to please that they register as slightly desperate. And then there's Ann Widdecombe's comic turn in the non-singing role of the Duchess of Crackentorp. Her skills as a stage performer are nonexistent; she gets through her lines, with their "laugh-now" references to Strictly and Cornish pasties, and she doesn't fall into the orchestra pit – but it's an embarrassment at any level, other than that of a celebrity appearance.
The two current leads offer solid performances, however. Patrizia Ciofi's Marie works hard to embody Donizetti's tomboy heroine brought up by a regiment of soldiers and then hoiked into high society, even if the effort involved in fulfilling all vocal and dramatic requirements shows.
Colin Lee, who has already appeared as naive village lad Tonio in this production, is more relaxed. He does not disappoint when he reaches the famous sequence of nine top Cs – one of the most notorious technical challenges in the entire tenor repertory; his high notes may lack Flórez's visceral excitement, but they're all there, and every one is a peach. His two lyrical arias possess genuine grace and delicacy. With a bit more stage ebullience, he would be close to ideal.
Most of the secondary roles go well. Ann Murray squeezes every drop from her Marquise with a guilty past. Donald Maxwell gives good value as her snobbish major-domo. Alan Opie blusters his way amiably through Sergeant Sulpice. Conductor Yves Abel delivers the score with accuracy, if not quite enough spirit.
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