Are you looking for some diversion in these troubled times? Are you keen to support local enterprise? Does an excursion into a remote – bt not too remote – wold of witty, gentle satire and glorious music sound about right to you?

If you answered, “yes,” to the above, I recommend you check out Wellington Light Opera’s latest production, Trial by Jury – an Operatic Vision by Cynthia Fortitude. You’ll have to be quick about it, though, because the season is brief (click the Production details).

You may be wondering by now whether your reviewer is moonlighting as a publicist. I’m happy to declare that I’m not. If I have any personal interest to declare, it’s a desire to make up for the grumbling mood in which I approached this review.

My reviewing companion drops out at the last moment, then I have an unsatisfactory shopping experience at Thorndon New World. Resentful phrases like “ancient Victorian tat” run through my mind as I slouch up street to St Andrews on The Terrace.

This unpromising mood lasts about 2 minutes into the show. The game-changer is the stage entrance of Cynthia Fortitude, self-proclaimed greatest living soprano of all time and the show’s nominal director.

If you haven’t come across Cynthia Fortitude before, she’s a national theatrical treasure created by seasoned performer Helen Moulder. She is vain, eccentric, bossy, and fixated on keeping opera and her own legend alive. She also manages to be utterly delightful. Her love of music is infectious and her personality overwhelming, which is why she has no trouble recruiting the audience as part of the chorus. Usually your reviewer flees audience participation like the plague, but when Miss Fortitude recruits you, you’re happy to be recruited.

So, what’s the link between Cynthia Fortitude and a work by Gilbert and Sullivan? Well, the premise goes like this: La Fortitude is director of a production of Trial by Jury to be delivered by the Light Opera Company of Khandallah, Johnsonville And Western Suburbs (LOCKJAW); the production has suffered from the COVID experience plus mutiny amongst the cast; the opening performance promises to be a shambles, with costumes and performers missing.

However, our director is resourceful and determined. After some quick last-minute adjustments, the Gilbert and Sullivan manages to power up. Diva Fortitude then leaves the cast to get on with the show, apart from interpolating one of her favourite solos from a completely different opera.

Which brings us to the play within the play, and if you haven’t come across Trial by Jury either, it’s an early Gilbert and Sullivan work poking fun at the British legal system circa 1870. Edwin has reneged on his promise to marry Angelina; now she wants the court to grant her compensation. The action consists of the trial, which is highly irregular and supplemented by comments and other add-ins provided by the judge, jury and interested observers. All of this is conveyed by the usual Savoy combination of lyrical sentimentality, farce, satire and rousing choruses, freighted by Sullivan’s splendid musical versatility.

Gilbert’s slick, slangy lyrics delighted the Victorians and can still amuse today if you can switch off your woke-alert filter for the duration. It helps that Gilbert found Victorian conventions at least as funny as we do (although probably for different reasons). This creates an escape clause for the sensitive viewer; we’re not supposed to take any of it seriously, even when the judge boasts about marrying a rich attorney’s elderly, ugly daughter.

The programme invites us to see Trial by Jury as a commentary on the hypocrisy of authority. Fair enough, but what makes this particular production so attractive for me is the wonderful choral work and the clever, inventive comedy.

Starting with the music: this production is a bountiful musical feast, particularly when there’s ensemble singing to be done. Give the cast an opportunity to deliver a stirring chorus – something which happens a lot – and they do so with polish, gusto and skill. The results are a pleasure to the ear and highly to the credit of musical director Michael Vinten and the singers he has worked with so effectively.

The individual solo performances are a little more variable in quality, with Sharon Yearsley as Angelina and Lindsay Groves as the Usher being my personal favourites. Yearsley not only sings beautifully, she finds an effective balance between lyricism and satire. Lindsay Groves is blessed with a rich bass voice which I enjoy listening to, irrespective of whatever Victorian drollery he is putting across.

The other quality that lifts this production for me is that it is, to put it simply, extremely funny. Part of this is because Gilbert and Sullivan were two exceptionally witty men. However, not all their comic material has survived the passage of time.

Fortunately, Helen Moulder and director Alison Hodge (jointly credited with the script) have between them a sure, sophisticated sense of comedy. I particularly appreciate the way the Cynthia Fortitude material works in with the original script and score to magnify the humorous impact.

Overall, this production doesn’t miss a comic trick, whether it’s faux Victorian moustaches for the jury, the referee’s whistle Fortitude uses to muster the cast, or the relish with which the players deliver their moments of high-camp Victorian melodrama. I wish the programme provided more information, to help me follow the story as it unfolds (and also work out who is playing whom).

I also appreciate the way Hodge choreographs the crowd scenes; she and the cast between them have a happy knack for creating order out of apparent chaos.

Pianist Robyn Jaquiery is a rock on which the whole production rests.

I leave the production humming a Gilbert and Sullivan tune and plotting ways to let readers know what a fine, funny entertainment this is.

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