English National Opera’s new staging of Rossini’sCinderellais a sparkling surprise: witty, whimsical and gloriously unconventional. Julia Burbach’s production reimagines the familiar fairy tale with a heady cocktail of irreverent humour, lavish theatricality and bursts of pure lyricism. It is the sort of evening that captures the imagination at every turn — one moment deliriously playful, the next unexpectedly tender — and leaves the audience both amused and beguiled.
From the first moments, the production pulls you into a world turned just slightly off-kilter. Christopher Cowell’s cheeky new English translation (full of sly winks, incongruous juxtapositions and playful modernisms) sets the tone, layering absurdity upon Rossini’s already spirited libretto. Into this kaleidoscope Burbach introduces a troupe of pink mice, ancestral portraits that step from their frames in Wham!Ruddigoremode, a ghostly mother who lingers in every scene, child doubles of the stepsisters and patriarch, and even a cricket match played with golf clubs — all of which swirl around a theatrical machine of a set (Herbert Murauer) with dual levels, a live elevator, a revolving bookcase, and a grand red-carpeted staircase worthy ofSunset Boulevard. Costumes by Sussie Juhlin-Wallén span Tudor tunics to Hawaiian shirt excess, leaving restraint to the purists.
At first glance this may read like a visual and dramatic assault; yet Burbach is astute enough to punctuate the chaos with “breathing” moments — freeze frames, softened lighting, hushed emotional exchanges — that allow the characters to reveal themselves beneath the mayhem. That said, there are moments when staging decisions hamper clarity: too many singers are pushed to the rear or boxed off in the set, and one wonders if certain lines suffer for lack of intimacy.
Vocal performances shine bright amid the spectacle. Deepa Johnny gives a captivating Cinderella (Angelina) — her technique is poised and clear, her rapid runs deftly handled. If she lacks a little low-end weight, she more than compensates in sincerity and musical intelligence. Simon Bailey, as Don Magnifico, offers superb diction — a patter baritone in full command, his comic timing razor-sharp. Aaron Godfrey-Mayes as Don Ramiro brings moments of true lyric beauty, though his projection occasionally wavers, especially when offstage or back. And Charles Rice’s Dandini is a bundle of mischief and charm; though some of his patter could be crisper, he brings life and swagger to one of Rossini’s trickiest roles.
Indeed, in ensemble and chorus numbers the production often pulls itself together with panache. The all-male ENO chorus, costumed as generations of Ramiro’s ancestors, strides from frame to stage with theatrical flair — and harmonically they are a strong backbone to the ball scenes and climactic moments. Many reviewers singled out the choral contributions as among the evening’s most delightful spectacles.
Yi-Chen Lin, in her ENO debut, handles the orchestra with elegance and agility. Her reading is stylish and refined, capturing the wit and bounce of Rossini’s score. Some critics (with justification) noted occasional lapses in pace or discrepancy between pit and stage — and it's true that in crowded ensemble passages the cohesion isn’t always perfect. But more often than not, she tames the musical chaos, drawing out lyricism and breathing life into the score’s more reflective moments.
If one were to fault this production, it’s that the boundless imagination sometimes risks overwhelming Rossini’s musical centre of gravity. The narrative gambols from whimsy to spectacle in a way that occasionally blurs motivation, and the sheer density of visual information can distract from emotional through-lines. Some ensemble moments feel a touch crushed under the weight of concept, particularly in Act I, where pacing lags or cohesion frays.
Yet, for all its eccentricities and theatrical boldness, ENO’sCinderellais a triumph of ambition and heart. It feels like an opera made for today: irreverent yet affectionate to its source, playful but never frivolous. It invites the audience — Rossini neophytes and longtime aficionados alike — to lean in, to suspend disbelief, and to delight in the surprises. This may not be a “perfect”Cenerentola(if such a beast exists), but it is a production that reminds one of opera’s capacity to surprise, to enchant, and to pull you in regardless of discipline.
In short: a vivid, audacious, and thoroughly enjoyable evening. If you can, don’t miss it.
English National Opera, London Coliseum, St Martin’s Lane, London WC2N 4ES
