I was sat next to a very nice lady at last night’s performance. She turned to me during the interval to ask how I was enjoying it so far.

Really enjoying it, I said. I’ve never seen an opera by composer Benjamin Britten before. She responded that he is her favourite operatic composer. I can see why.

And as the lights dimmed once more and the opening strains of the music began to ring out, heralding the arrival of Act III…

It’s…delicious, I said.

Loxford, 1947. A typical small market town, where nothing escapes the eye of Lady Billows and her housekeeper Florence Pike.

When there are no virtuous girls left in the village, the Queen of the May organising committee decide to break with tradition and crown the shy and innocent greengrocer’s boy Albert Herring as King of the May. But heavy is the head that wears the May King crown, and Albert’s friend Sid intervenes with some mischievous assistance as Albert accepts his fate and the cash prize.

Join us as Albert’s newfound village status leads to an alcohol-fuelled night of debauchery and self-discovery. 

Delicious. That may sound more twee than the quintessential world laid out before us. But it was true.

I’ve been to operas before billed as comedies. And I’ve recognised the humorous parts, politely and quietly laughing to acknowledge my recognition of said humorous parts.

But the English National Opera’s Albert Herring, showing at the Lowry as part of the company’s ongoing partnership with Greater Manchester, was funny, not least because of how brilliant the ensemble was. From the very young, to the not so young, the timing, delivery and physical execution worthy of a Laurel and Hardy escapade.

With a vicar who also appeared to be a scoutmaster (complete, at one very dark point, with a bag of sweets of which he appeared very keen to share with the younger generation…erm yes) a lady of the manor (Emma Bell) , her housekeeper (Carolyn Dobbin), a prim but perfectly pleasant headmistress (Aiofe Miskelly), the mayor (Mark Le Brocq) and the local police superintendent (Andri Björn Róbertsson), we were practically in a Miss Marple made for television feature film.

Not only that but when a string of sausages entered the fray at one point, throw in a crocodile and we’ve got ourselves a Punch and Judy show, to boot. Joy.

And then we meet more of the townsfolk – Sid the butcher’s assistant (Dan D’Souza), Nancy the baker’s daughter (Anna Elizabeth Cooper), Mrs Herring the greengrocer (Leah–Marian Jones) and of course the star of the piece, her son, one Albert Herring (Caspar Singh).

Poor old Albert, cuckolded into the dubious honour of being the first May King. You’d be forgiven for actually thinking this to be progressive, were it not for the reasons why. But here we are and there poor old Albert is. Dressed head to tudor toe in white, as though heading to his own christening like an overgrown toddler, and finding more and more of a liking for this suspiciously rum-tasting lemonade…

With a triple dose of glorious mischief in the shape of the youngsters in the village (Abigail Sinclair, Natasha Oldbury and Henry Karp), the action is riotous, energetic, and full of cheek, glorious cheek.

Musically conducted and directed by Daniel Cohen, the wonderful orchestra provides Britten’s lively and impish score, showcased no moreso than at the start of Act III at length, before our players return to the stage.

Our cast vocally are successful in making with even the pithiest, most witty, even most mundane throwaway line sound like a glorious musical call to arms…

Do you sell sage?

…being just one of my favourites.

With a stripped down set verging on that of brutalist architecture and hard-working, 4th wall-breaking cast and creatives blurring lines and merging the two worlds of backstage and on stage activity, the production feels fresh and fun.

And what of our hero, one Albert Herring?

Well in this tale of self-discovery, and how one can break free from the restrictive shackles in life that can be both self-imposed and put upon us by others, well…it goes to show that getting trollied can once in a while, lead us down a positive path (albeit on our hands and knees and the occasional stumble…).

Visit the Lowry website for more details and further information of future productions.

You can read more about the English National Opera over at their website here.

Production images: Genevieve Girling