Tag Archives: Hannah Bothelton

THE OPERA LOCOS

★★★

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

THE OPERA LOCOS

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

★★★

“a breezy showcase of real vocal firepower”

Whoever said ‘opera is for the masses’ should catch ‘The Opera Locos’ – a bonkers cabaret blending Saint-Saëns and Mozart with Sinatra and Michael Jackson. It delivers some dazzling renditions of opera’s toughest arias, even if the loose comedy and structure leave me wanting more. Still, it’s an entertaining, accessible and impressive showcase of vocal mastery.

Five superb singers take the stage: Alfredo (Jesús Álvarez), a once glorious tenor past his prime; Enrique (Enrique Sánchez-Ramos), a brawny baritone with a sweet streak; Franelli (Michaël Koné), a camp counter-tenor who loves Céline as fiercely as Callas; Maria (María Rey-Joly), a starry eyed soprano chasing her own operatic fairytale; and Carmen (Mayca Teba), a self possessed mezzo with unapologetic allure. Come celebrate love, loss and above all – opera!

Conceived by YLLANA and Rami Eldar, the show repurposes opera classics, stringing them into a loose, mostly upbeat, narrative. Throwaway Act 1 jokes return smartly in Act 2, and the somewhat thinly drawn characters become more charming as they go. There’s also a welcome queer love story, flashes of dark humour, and some entertaining audience participation. Though several sketches feel thin. And while it’s billed as a show for everyone, it definitely helps if you know the repertoire, with long sung through stretches and an extended audience singalong section which assumes you know the words.

YLLANA’s commedia dell’arte infused direction bursts with colourful costumes, mask like makeup, and plenty of physical comedy. The nonsense sing speak – a babble of faux French, Spanish, and Italian, with occasional English for emphasis – is embellished with virtuoso ornamentation that turns sighs and screams into pitch perfect musical moments. Act 2 is a step up from Act 1, with bigger hits, bigger ideas, sharper comedy and more acting – though it’s debatable whether a 90 minute show really needs an interval.

Musical directors Marc Álvarez and Manuel Coves shape an easy to love playlist, mixing classical staples with pop crowd pleasers to appeal to a broad audience and keep the energy high. The score cleverly highlights how closely the two worlds overlap – or rather, how many pop tunes are quietly borrowed from classics. The way the lush pre recorded orchestra – performed by Orquesta Sinfónica VERUM, conducted by Coves – fades into rehearsal piano smartly moves the narrative forward. The final medley is a crowd pleaser, kicking off with ‘Time to Say Goodbye’ before weaving in spot on pop cues for each character.

The cast is vocally outstanding with crisp delivery, vibrant coloratura, and gorgeously rich tones across the board. Rey Joly’s sparkling soprano tears through the toughest bars of Mozart’s ‘Queen of the Night’ aria while seated, pairing virtuosity with effortless, whimsical charm. Teba’s sumptuous mezzo floods the room, and her magnetic presence makes every audience interaction sizzle. Álvarez shifts from tragic Alfredo to triumphant ‘Nessun dorma’, also delivering a deeply moving ‘Vesti la giubba’. Sánchez Ramos’ velvety baritone unexpectedly flips into falsetto as machismo melts, and expertly coaches the audience through the extended singalong. Michaël Koné’s soaring countertenor floats above it all, while charming us with camp sincerity that Enrique can’t help but fall for.

The design is beautiful. Set design (Tatiana De Sarabia, David Ottone, Yeray González) immediately sets a playfully dramatic tone. Costumes (de Sarabia) are ravishing – a colourful fever dream take on classic opera silhouettes which are stunning in their own right. The sound design (Luis López de Segovia) has flair, especially the applause bursting from Alfredo’s old poster. However, the overall mix could use tightening, with orchestral swells occasionally overwhelming the cast and pop vocals fading out. The lighting design is arresting, especially the sculptural side lighting which transforms characters in the central opening.

‘The Opera Locos’ is a breezy showcase of real vocal firepower – an accessible and genuinely inviting way into opera. It’s well worth a visit if you crave fun over formality.



THE OPERA LOCOS

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

Reviewed on 25th February 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Annelize Tozetto


 

 

 

 

THE OPERA LOCOS

THE OPERA LOCOS

THE OPERA LOCOS

EASY VIRTUE

★★★★

Cambridge Arts Theatre

EASY VIRTUE

Cambridge Arts Theatre

★★★★

“packed with killer one liners and devastating retorts”

Sir Trevor Nunn’s anticipated revival of ‘Easy Virtue’ – one of Noël Coward’s early, rarely staged plays – lands in his old stamping ground. Written in 1924 and shocking in its day, this finely judged production still hits hard, exposing the price women pay for living on their own terms.

John – the sole heir to an aristocratic fortune – triggers a reckoning when he brings home a wildly unsuitable wife. But frank and fearless Larita knows her worth and won’t be cowed by his unbending family. As tensions rise, only one side will come out on top.

‘Easy Virtue’ has all the razor sharp wit you expect from Coward – only with a far sharper edge. It scandalised original audiences: Larita’s past touches almost every 1920s taboo, forcing contemporary audiences to confront the double standards they’d rather ignore. Yet it still feels ahead of its time; even now, it’s a thrill to watch a heroine resolutely refuse to conform. The script is packed with killer one liners and devastating retorts; Larita delivers some blisteringly articulate speeches, which are satisfying if a touch contrived. Still, a few beats land awkwardly in 2026. Larita ends up minimising John’s responsibility for their failing marriage while maximising her own, which jars with her otherwise forward thinking nature. Meanwhile John is shielded from scandal and handed a tidy solution by Larita herself, which Sarah also seems to support – though perhaps as an intentional indictment of male privilege.

Sir Trevor Nunn’s landmark production makes Coward’s cynical wit and emotional precision really sparkle. Recasting Larita as English rather than American sidesteps the culture clash trope, sharpening the clash of ideals and making the Whittakers’ gaslighting feel even more toxic. Every character is humanised, especially Larita whose poised wit gives way to silent moments of collapse, underlining her emotional intelligence and the trap she’s in. Sarah echoes Larita’s modernity, fiercely calling out John’s neglect and resisting his advances – though this makes their later reconciliation a little jarring. The Colonel’s final wave is a beautifully understated tribute from this faithful ally. And placing the interval right after Larita and John’s explosive Act 2 argument smartly spotlights this turning point and splits the evening into two clean halves.

The brilliant cast delivers standout work across the board. Alice Orr Ewing’s Larita is resolutely poised and deeply sympathetic, pairing razor wit with hidden depths. Greta Scacchi nails Mrs Whittaker’s narcissistic obliviousness, delivering hysterics with immaculate comic timing and pitch perfect restraint. Lisa Ambalavanar’s fresh, funny, fierce Sarah proves herself worthy of Larita’s friendship as a genuine “girl’s girl”. Joseph Potter charts John’s headlong rush into first love before snapping back to reality with uncomfortable accuracy. Michael Praed gives the Colonel a poignantly worn down grace – a man long resigned yet capable of respectful tenderness. Imogen Elliott’s Marion captures a young woman sliding inevitably into her mother’s mould, conditioned to toe the family line. Grace Hogg Robinson gives Hilda a charming, volatile innocence, veering from idolising Larita to bristling at her. Jamie Wilkes brings a deft mix of aristocratic stiffness and bold humour to Charles, letting the formal façade slip.

Simon Higlett’s set channels 1920s aristocracy: an opulent, pillar lined room complete with all the trappings. Like the Whittakers, it remains steadfast throughout, the only change coming from the symbolically clearing sky in the vast French windows. Johanna Town’s lighting follows suit, steady until the finale, where blues, purples and festive lamps mark the climax. Higlett’s costumes revel in 1920s glamour with Larita’s gala look stealing the show in a riot of sequins, pearls and rubies, topped with a magnificent feather fan. Anna Wood’s sound design is subtle and unobtrusive: no mics, just soft music and distant applause. Only the ending falters, the music swelling too soon and drowning Larita’s final lines.

Nunn’s ‘Easy Virtue’ reminds us that a woman’s independence is still the ultimate provocation. Don’t miss this powerful production of a rare Coward gem.



EASY VIRTUE

Cambridge Arts Theatre

Reviewed on 25th February 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Richard Hubert Smith


 

 

 

 

EASY VIRTUE

EASY VIRTUE

EASY VIRTUE