This favourite comic opera must have been performed in countless spaces from community centres to school assembly halls and an endless variety of theatres, but its challenge to spirit an audience away into the realms of delectable nonsense can rarely have been greater than from the cavern of the CSB arena.

From the reduced but stellar cast for Ben McDonald’s production, under the experienced direction of Raymond Hawthorne and with the musical director Grant Winterburn at the grand piano, a colourful concert species of G and S springs to life.

So if hopes of swashbuckling pirate hordes and bevies of twittering maidens is the expectation, this production is not the one to see. Instead, there is a bright and breezy romp larking around a splendid Victorian picture frame; grand piano centred towards the rear of the stage, signifying the musical excellence which for me marks the performance. 

As a touring outfit, the supporting chorus role is necessarily trimmed but all the main drivers are there, reading like an honours list for music and stage. They need all their charm and energy to carry off a bold departure from the classic tradition for this piece.

The story itself is unchanged – we follow the seesawing fortunes of dutiful Frederic whose happy engagement to beautiful Mabel is thwarted by the unfortunate date of his birth on a leap year, so that he has not achieved his majority and expected release from an unintentional apprenticeship to a pirate band. Then there is are the moral obligations towards orphans and compelling duty to Queen Victoria to be met – a jolly, warm spirited pickle (‘Here’s a pretty mess!’).

Words do not do justice to the wonderful confection this rigmarole creates when enacted to spirited music and with a touch of the formality of operatic performance, setting its mischievous frivolity in delicious contrast. The music part is well rendered, but what seems missing in this production is the physicality and action which should move the experience towards the theatrical end of the spectrum. Perhaps the necessary lack of numbers is responsible for a more static and presentational style, but as a result, for me, the lightness of the performance is reduced. 

The glorious Pirate King role is fine territory for Tim Beveridge, though there are no ropes for him to swing on nor fearsome hordes to control. As Ruth, Helen Medlyn stamps the role with authority. George Henare’s Major General Stanley deftly provides much of the humour, the territory also of Geraldine Brophy singing very low as the unforgettable Sergeant of Police. 

The romantic pairing of Cameron Barclay as Frederic and Tizane McEvoy as Mabel is a hit, and the Major General’s other daughters, played by Ali Harper(Edith), Sophia Hawthorne (Kate) and Shaan Antunovich (Isabel), charm their way with aplomb.

Musically then, a triumph, this production in the big arena remains a little disappointing for all the promise and talent of its cast. Perhaps as it fills smaller spaces on its national tour, it will work with more theatrical punch.

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It was a slightly rocky launch last night for Gilbert & Sullivan’s pastiche comic opera at Dunedin’s refurbished Regent Theatre. 

The Pirates of Penzance is arguably the best of the canon, combining the lyricism of The Mikado with the witticisms and almost unbelievable gullibility of the HMS Pinafore characters. Where else can the mere mention of Queen Victoria’s name instantly change the careers of pirates, even if they are tender-hearted ones? But this is the height of Victorian comic opera; the way has been prepared by the Sergeant’s “When a felon’s not engaged in his employment …”

Sullivan’s music, while being recognisably Sullivan, delights in pastiche moments, including of his own work. ‘Climbing over rocky mountain’ was not only dragged out of a prior work but, here, due to three of the Major General Stanley’s daughters performing as the female chorus, it strongly resembles The Mikado’s ‘Three Little Maids’ – with choreography to match enhancing this resemblance.

Through the music references (mostly) Verdi, Donizetti and Gounod, my favourite has to be the setting of ‘Sighing softly to the river’ with its Schubert-like accompaniment. The soft lyricism rippling from the piano with the finely balanced vocals from the ensemble and beautifully judged poetry from George Henare as the Major General create a wonderful magic.

Gilbert’s book has some of the most quoted lines and is full of invention and light-hearted puns. A perfect foil for Sullivan’s music, Gilbert’s characters are the most wonderful clump of dolts ever.

The story is of Frederic, who was mistakenly apprenticed to a gang of Pirates rather than Pilots due to his father’s maid’s poor hearing. On his 21^st birthday he is released and informs the pirates – to their faces (which of course is the honourable thing) that now he must hunt and despise them as they are pirates.

In fairness he does inform them that they are too tender-hearted, which is widely known and why for the past two years all ships they have boarded escape their clutches by claiming to be orphans. Being orphans themselves, they know how it feels and release them so as not to cause the further pain.

On his release Frederic happens upon some young women; his only female companion so far being the hard-of-hearing Ruth. All but Mabel rebuff his approaches and, of course, they instantly fall in love. The pirates return and decide to take the girls – cue the entry of the modern Major General who saves the situation by claiming to be an orphan. 

In Act Two Major General Stanley is conscience-stricken at having lied about his parents. Meanwhile the police arrive planning to capture the pirates. They leave Frederic to find out that since he was born on the 29^th of February he is a leap baby and therefore only 5 ¾ years old. He is informed by the Pirate King that since he is apprenticed until his 21^st birthday he will be a pirate for another 60 odd years. Frederic goes on to ask Mabel to wait for him, which she readily agrees to.

The police – not that interested in soft pirates – arrive and hide; the pirates arrive and hide; and Major General Stanley arrives. The pirates, with not too much effort, overpower the police and are about to kill the Major General when the sergeant invokes the name of Queen Victoria. Cue changes of heart, reconciliation and the final number.

What a glorious conceit this whole package is, and it’s only in comedy that such divine tomfoolery can occur. The leap year gambit is a wonderful device and the audience cannot help but laugh and cheer at the same time.

This kind of farcical behaviour requires the performers to commit totally and this company does. The ensemble all give wonderful performances that fill the stage with lightness and deftness.

As the ingénue’s Frederic and Mabel, Cameron Barclay and Tizane McEvoy capture the blind devotion and slightly-removed-from-reality love that always makes you wonder what happens next for them. Barclay’s straightforwardness sometimes comes across as slightly stiff in the second half when he has less of the focus, but overall he works well.

Tizane has a very good voice that sometimes overpowers the ensemble work but that may be due to the sound difficulties during this performance. It seems to most affect her early on with reedy top notes in ‘Poor wandering one’. More about the sound later.

However they are never better than in ‘Oh, here is love and here is truth’. Sung beautifully and with such emotion it provides an anchoring realness to their relationship. My problem (with Gilbert) is that by this time in the piece it is maybe too late to see the characters as other than your ordinary young lovers. 

Helen Medlyn as Ruth plonks herself into the part with great fun. She perfectly places the comedy in ‘When Frederic was a little lad’ and has a ball as the maid of all.

Tim Beverage is magnificent as the Pirate King: a sexy-assed swashbuckler if ever there was one. He has the power, range and tone to not only delight in the story and lyrics but to bring real depth with his voice. He brings a liveliness and joy of performance to this wonderful role. His and George Henare’s ‘orphan/often’ routine has the audience holding in the giggles quite ‘orphan’, so we can hear and enjoy their brilliant timing.  

George Henare is one of New Zealand’s leading actors and a sure thing for Stanley. He rides the brocade with flair and aplomb. As he enters far upstage the woman behind me anticipatedly whispers (if Gilbert can make up words I can too), “Oh, here he comes.” It’s a showcase role and Henare fills it admirably, the only bum note being that he doesn’t seem to be in charge of “I am the very model of a modern Major General”. It’s an extremely difficult patter song and Henare has all the gifts and skills to tackle it, but the timing and diction this night leaves him catching up to the song rather than the other way around.

The same may be said for Geraldine Brophy’s Sergeant. It is only in ‘When a felon’s not engaged in his employment’ that she hits her stride both comically and narratively. Sometimes I can see a two and half week rehearsal period onstage. 

In this cut-back production the ensemble fills not only their own roles but the men’s and women’s chorus as well. At first I miss the lush sound from a large group of voices but only for a short while. The smaller group not only enables them to take a blistering pace but to bring a staccato to the chorus patter songs that fairly bounce them and the audience along.

Music is provided by Musical Director Grant Winterburn on a lone grand piano and is a perfectly fine. Yes, we lose some of the depth and colours an orchestra would provide, but Winterburn’s versatility and the action of the play is such that we don’t really miss it. At times the piano threatens to overpower the singers (more on the sound later). Winterburn deservedly gets a strong round of applause at the end. 

Chris Reddington’s set is a gorgeous huge arch; a gilt picture-frame that holds the action but also suggests a hearth and museum picture gallery. The portraits of the daughters (?) are positioned in a way to look like an eagle staring at the audience with the side struts as its awesome legs. The base gives way to the rocks of the beach on which the action takes place.

In Act Two the arch is partially deconstructed, which smacks of over intellectualising, forming part of the ruined chapel, along with additional tombstones. Behind the arch the grand piano sits before of four panels depicting a beach scene. An unfurled sail hangs behind to reinforce the nauticality. This is lit well, if not imaginatively, by Andre Goldsmith, the summer of Act One giving way to Act Two’s blues of night without bringing the mood down.

Kristen Sorrenson’s costume designs are also what we would expect, with special mention to the Sergeant’s and the daughters’ costumes. The delightful Emma-esque-ness of the dresses bring warmth and smiles all round. 

Raymond Hawthorne’s direction is classic Hawthorne and suits the production well. The flow of characters around the set keep it alive and doesn’t get in the way of the music. Diction is a high priority, as it should be, and – sound problems aside – is spectacular. 

The sound. Overall, at Dunedin’s Regent, the balance of piano and singers and also between the singers was poor. At times Frederic’s mic cut out completely for entire scenes and songs. Sound can be a technical operator’s dream and nightmare in the same performance – wonderful when right, excruciating when wrong – not only for the audience but for the techs as well, and extraordinarily difficult to fix mid performance. My heart went out to them last night, along with a few daggers, admittedly.  

Two issues arise from this. Returning to the Regent after its year-long(ish) refurbishment, I did wonder how the sound would be. Previously radio mic gremlins had made appearances at most shows I have performed at the Regent or seen there. And they do so still. Is this a venue problem that will continue into the future?

The other issue is that Frederic sounded better without a mic. This was also the case when ‘Edith/Kate/Isabel’ had to momentarily do without their mics. The Regent was built in a pre-electronic sound era and the acoustics are fantastic. Combined with the excellent diction, Frederic’s and the Daughters’ voices were more lush and easy to hear. When we reverted to amplified performance we lost something. I am by no means anti-mic, it just became very obvious that this production, in this venue, didn’t need them.

That said, both finales and especially “Sighing softly to the river” were brilliantly balanced and finely performed: an absolute delight. The Pirate King reigned last night, so it would be fair to say Pirates are the winners.

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