The programme for Scottish Opera's new Magic Flute has a Tibetan boy on its cover. Inside, there are pictures of Max Miller and Morecambe and Wise, as well as film stills from Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1927) and William Cameron Menzies'Things to Come (1936). Mozart's Singspiel is certainly allusive, and, as the booklet promises, Jonathan Moore's staging (with striking designs by Rae Smith) spreads its frame of reference wider than most in an effort to tie up the loose ends.
The action begins on the moon, where the Queen of Night rules and the Three Ladies zap the monster threatening the astronaut Tamino with ray guns. Sarastro's realm is back on earth, where he is head of the Isis and Osiris Mission, a multifaith outfit in which dog collars mingle with turbans and saffron robes, and the key to enlightenment seems to be stored on a CD-Rom.
Moore has written new dialogue, playing up the slapstick and the innuendo with jokes about sacks and helmets, and one about Russell Watson, too. This reworking can't save Pauls Putnins' Sarastro from the insufferable pomposity that goes with the territory, or generally provide The Magic Flute with a clear, unsententious message. But the racism implicit in the character of Monostatos is avoided: Philip Salmon presents him as a New Labour clone in suit and red braces (the real giveaway), who puts on a black bondage mask when he attempts to rape Pamina.
Some of this is wonderfully entertaining, and the long evening passes speedily enough. Conductor Vincent de Kort keeps the score moving along very effectively. However, the acting of the principals is generally rather better than their singing. Vocally, Marie Arnet's Pamina is the pick of the bunch, though she is not such a natural stage performer as some of her colleagues: Iain Paton's Tamino gains in authority as the performance unwinds, and Jennifer Rhys-Davies' Queen of Night gets around her arias with some aplomb. Roland Wood's cheeky-chappie Papageno has nearly all the best lines and gets the most out of them, and it is in his double act with Tamino that the production really hits its stride.
Apart from a throwaway quip about funny handshakes, there is never a mention of freemasonry in the entire show - and for that relief, at least, much thanks.
· In rep until Saturday. Box office: 0141-332 9000. Then at the Edinburgh Festival Theatre (0131-529 6000) on May 27 and 29.
