Thomas Vinterberg’s 1998 movie Festen started a whole cinematic movement, a black comedy of manners which is “Black” with a capital “B”. We are preparing for the lavish 60th birthday party of patriarch and hotelier Helge Klingenfeldt and we learn immediately that bad things have happened in the family. As the story progresses, secrets emerge which ratchet up the tension, becoming steadily more shocking until the final, truly appalling revelations.
Out of all this, Mark-Anthony Turnage and librettist Lee Hall have created something extraordinary: an opera in which the horrors of the piece are as dark and dramatic as you can imagine, but which is richly entertaining and truly hilarious for a great deal of its length. Turnage’s score has masses of variety, from high-drama filmic sequences to conventional operatic recitative to big-band party numbers to deliciously lyrical arias, not to mention generous dollops of musical humour. The opera runs for 1h40 without an interval (although there are brief curtain-down orchestral interludes for scene changes) and there’s never a dull moment.
You certainly can’t accuse The Royal Opera of skimping. There are 25 named roles plus chorus and actors, and the cast list comprised more of the cream of British opera singing than any I can remember (plus some notable imports). Gerald Finley was revoltingly smooth and urbane as Helge. As Christian, the prodigal son who returns to the event to shake everything up by calling his father out on his abusive past, Allan Clayton was at his very best, giving a bizarre but completely credible mix of the goofiness we’ve seen from him in roles like Candide, the hard edge of a Peter Grimes and absolute beauty of voice in his lyrical moments. Stéphane Degout was brilliantly nasty as Christian’s violent younger brother Michael; Thomas Oliemans stole the show as the hapless Master of Ceremonies, Helmut, keeping the show going when everything is falling apart around him. There was even a fine cameo for Sir John Tomlinson as Helge’s senile grandfather.
The female roles, on the whole, are less pivotal, the most important being Christian’s sister Helena, sung by Natalya Romaniw with sweet-toned vocal appeal as well as heartfelt emotion, and Rosie Aldridge as the hypocritical mother. Space forbids me from name-checking everyone, but there truly wasn’t a weak link.