At ENO it is almost as if the past two decades never happened. Less than a week after dusting off their smoking jackets for Jonathan Miller's 20-year-old Mikado, here the men of the chorus were again, back in their mafioso henchman suits in the Duke's cocktail bar for another revival of Miller's enduring 1982 staging of Rigoletto.

This time the Verdi revival, staged by Elaine Tyler-Hall, is the less slick of the two - and that's despite the presence once again of Alan Opie in the title role, Opie having made Miller's conception of the embittered jester very much his own. He still sings it powerfully and mellifluously, and has a presence that none of his colleagues approaches except Brindley Sherratt, a greasy Sparafucile who has all the bottomless low notes of an operatic hired murderer. Yet Opie has perhaps brought more dramatic intensity to the role before. He's not always helped by Alexander Briger's conducting, and the orchestra too often merely accompany the singers rather than drive the emotional pitch of the scene.

The Duke has a quiff that gets bigger with every revival, and Peter Auty combs his back in a way that would make the Fonz self-conscious. He has the big high notes but a woolly delivery, and poses all the sexual threat of the office creep at the Christmas party. Nor is Judith Howarth entirely convincing as the transcendentally innocent Gilda, tending to soupiness in her lovelorn melodic lines, although the sound she makes is gorgeous. Both are in costumes and wigs designed for someone else.

One thing has changed: there is now a surtitle screen. The good news is that it is not quite as intrusive as it might be, and will occasionally be turned off. The bad news is that it's a cop-out. We can no longer expect singers as communicative as Opie to grow up through ENO's ranks if they know their audiences are reading rather than listening.

· In rep until March 24. Box office: 0870 145 1700.