You know you’re in for a comedic romp when a cheeky duo breaks the fourth wall in English before the curtain even rises. Cal McCrystal’s irreverent new production of L’Elisir d’amore for Irish National Opera gallops headlong into the farcical with guns blazing – and the result is a riotously entertaining ride through Donizetti’s effervescent score, reimagined in the dusty climes of the American Wild West.
McCrystal, whose background in physical comedy is writ large across the staging, relocates the action to the late 19th-century frontier with cartoonish aplomb. The cast of characters are gleefully sketched from Western archetypes: the sassy Southern belle, the swaggering cavalry officer, the wide-eyed farmhand and, of course, the slick-talking snake-oil salesman. Filmic references come thick and fast – Nemorino as Woody from Toy Story, Adina as a preening Scarlett O’Hara, Belcore strutting in the spirit (and moustache) of Freddie Mercury, with nods to Laurel and Hardy, the Wizard of Oz, Abraham Lincoln and even the Addams Family. It is Donizetti dialled up to eleven and all the better for it.
Sarah Bacon’s set design captures the spaghetti Western aesthetic with pitch-perfect charm: sun-bleached cacti, a grand colonial homestead and distant painted peaks evoke the open plains without ever needing to change scene. The only addition is the arrival of Dr Dulcamara in a spectacular hot-air balloon. Bacon's costumes are a triumph too, full of period flourish and clever detail, from Adina’s serially lavish gowns to the ‘Adina/Andy’-style scribble on Nemorino’s boot.
Vocally, the evening belonged to Claudia Boyle as Adina. A soprano of shimmering timbre and boundless charisma, she sashayed across the stage with gleeful mischief and real emotional heft. Her tone was liquid gold, whether gliding through duets or delivering the exquisite poignancy of “Prendi, per me sei libero” with hair-raising intensity. Her coloratura was dispatched with effortless precision, her vocal fireworks never detracting from the character’s arc from flirt to romantic saviour.
As the hapless Nemorino, Duke Kim charmed with every note. It took a scene or two for his voice to fully bloom, but once settled, he sang with bright lyricism and heartfelt simplicity. His comic timing was immaculate, particularly during the drunken euphoria brought on by his "elixir" (disguised, rather amusingly, as red wine). His climactic top C was a thrilling high point – literally and figuratively.
John Molloy was a true scene stealer as the delightfully dodgy Dulcamara. His rich bass-baritone and irrepressible stage presence turned every entrance into an event. Abetted by a wonderfully clownish Ian O’Reilly, he turned snake-oil sales into an art form. Gianluca Margheri’s Belcore was equally scene-stealing, channelling rakish bravado with comic relish and no small amount of bare-chested swagger.
The INO chorus rose to the occasion with verve and wit, be it coquettishly cheering for Belcore or campily twirling as the Keystone cops in scruffy uniform. Their energy was infectious, amplifying the comic chaos without overwhelming the music.
In the pit, conductor Erina Yashima drew buoyant, nuanced playing from the INO orchestra. Tempi were crisply judged, and there was a lovely sense of lilt and lyricism throughout, a musical counterweight to the madness above.
McCrystal’s Elisir doesn’t merely update Donizetti; it lets him loose with joyously anarchic abandon. It's bold, brash and utterly beguiling.
