Review: THE ELIXIR OF LOVE, London Coliseum
A bit of fun from time to time doesn’t hurt
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Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be. That’s the hypothesis of Harry Fehr’s new iteration of The Elixir Of Love, a self-reflexive swipe on 1970s sitcoms drunk on the saccharine sentimentalism of second world war triumphalism. Pip pip. Tally ho. Brush off the bunting. Acts are framed by a looming retro television screen. Think the sepia-toned kitsch of Allo’ Allo’ and Dad’s Army supercharged with the camp silliness of Opera Buffa.
Nemorino and Adina’s antics are translated to a 1940s stately home where she is the Lady of the Manor, he a preppy nerd, sulking with the saggy eyes of a reprimanded puppy yearning for her attention. Dan D’Souza plays love rival Belcore with eye cocked and dripping with caddish bravado, flanked by the flyboys in air force blue. Dulcamara is a slippery black-market crook, eyebrows flickering, who flogs Nemornio the titular potion as a panacea for his romantic woes. It’s just back pocket whiskey. Shenanigans!
But for all the endearing Brideshead soppiness, Rhian Lois’ Adina and Thomas Atkins’ Nemorino’s marble smooth and just as solid vocals find melancholic heft. It charmingly catches you off guard, the eye of the sitcom storm, a moment of earnest emotion shining through the silliness. Teresa Riveiro Böhm’s delicately measured conducting must be credited for the balancing act.
To dismiss it all as frivolous fluff is an error. There’s a welcome whiff of WS Gilbert wit about Amanda Holden’s finely tuned libretto. But it’s a lyrical double-edged sword, a shame that Brandon Cedal’s Dulcamara is caught in the current of the gushing river of words.
It’s tempting to overthink Fehr’s directorial steer in a Post-Modernist way, something about remembering the act of remembering. Insert a quote on culture and simulacra by some French philosopher here. But you must resist. Embrace its bright pastel goofiness as a warm antidote to the cold winter nights and looming geopolitical storm clouds. A bit of fun from time to time doesn’t hurt.
As for The Elixir itself, it’s comforting to know that dating has always been a minefield. One wrong step and the person you love could prance into the arms of your pomaded haired rival. I suspect Donizetti’s opera would be right at home in the digital realm of dating apps and ghosting. But that’s a vision for another production.
The Elixir of Love plays at the English National Opera until December 5
Photo Credits: Marc Brenner
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