In one way Rossini's opera of young love deceiving elderly dupes, such a template of commedia dell'arte drama, is ideally suited to Longborough's perfect setting. It appeals to an audience determined to enjoy itself, and here under Richard Studer's direction it raises laughs galore.
But the presentation in this production overtaxes the venue. Vocal delivery is loud, orchestral sound (even from the remarkable Longborough pit) under Jonathan Lyness occasionally overwhelms the singers, and Rossini's so-predictable score bludgeons rather than caresses.
The eternal patter-songs, though generally rendered with tongue-twisting dexterity, become tedious when pointed like machine-guns at the audience, the English dialogue has its moments of archness (the nadir came when we were told we'd have to wait for Mozart to tell us what happens next -- not fair to set conveyor-belt Rossini against such a genius), and staging is sometimes slapstick.
Though that does have its moments, especially when Almaviva in disguise (Nicholas Sales not entirely comfortable in coloratura) is playing the harpsichord a la Les Dawson while the object of his desires, Rosina, sings a coded aria to him, her lecherous guardian Bartolo snoozing under a handkerchief.
As the eponymous barber, Grant Doyle makes disappointingly little impact as Figaro. But the Rosina of Helen Sherman is simply tremendous, her coloratura as spectacular as lightning, her command of register imperious, and her sheer stage-presence compelling.
