L’Etoile, Royal Opera House

It’s a kind of French Mikado. In a distant and exotic kingdom a victim must be found to celebrate the King’s name-day. No little list, no W H Gilbert wit, either, but a handful of delicious tunes, most of them deftly previewed in one of operetta’s smartest overtures. Mark Elder had the orchestra skip to its charms – his nose for style, for rhythm and accent and perfume are now a given.

I can be brief about what followed. The house is too big for the piece: from a seat in the balcony it felt faint and remote and occasionally (dialogue-wise) inaudible. Some sweet voices – notably Helene Guilmette (Lauula) and Kate Lindsey (Lazuli – the trouser role with the hit number) – but none that wouldn’t have been happier in a moderately sized West End theatre.

Director Mariame Clement, clearly aware of how much hard work it would take to crack a smile or two in the audience, had wheeled in a couple of comic actors – Chris Addison and Jean-Luc Vincent – adding a kind of desperate commentary on the action proper whilst making capital of the language (and indeed humour) disconnect; and the designer Julia Hansen had a visual gag or two up her sleeve. But it was never more than titter-worthy and only Chabrier (and his guardian Elder) emerged with dignity intact – though not, it has to be said, without a few too many stitches dropped in the ensemble along the way.

As I say, nice tunes, pity about the rest.