A spirited attempt to fix a show that’s never really flown: Utopia, Limited reviewed

Utopia, Limited (1893) is a rare bird, and one that every Gilbert and Sullivan completist simply has to bag. The point of completism, of course, is to acquire an overview: if artists are truly original, everything they created should illuminate the whole. But what if a career tailed off, or ran to seed? It’s just going to be depressing, isn’t it? By the time they began their penultimate opera, Gilbert and Sullivan hadn’t collaborated for three years. In fact, they’d barely spoken. Goaded back into harness, they produced a comedy that really ought to have sparkled and yet somehow… well, put it this way: even the late D’Oyly Carte company waited until 1975 before attempting a revival.

Scottish Opera deserves only praise for this latest resuscitation effort. No dutiful completism here; this was a spirited attempt by a team of skilled professionals to fix a show that’s never really flown. And fair play to them: Bernard Shaw couldn’t praise Utopia, Limited highly enough and there are passages – some of them extensive – where both creators are demonstrably on peak form. The premise is vintage Gilbert. The technically despotic but effectively powerless monarch of the island kingdom of Utopia is in love with all things British, which at this specific point in history means that the progressive thing to do is to convert the entire nation into a limited liability company.

For this semi-staging the director Stuart Maunder recycled the tropical backdrops and parquet floor from Scottish Opera’s The Gondoliers. Ben McAteer was King Paramount, a tall, genial presence with a sunny baritone, and together with Charlie Drummond as the Girton-educated Princess Zara he set the musical tone at a consistently high level – Drummond, in particular, rolling out her wine-dark soprano with luxuriant warmth.