40 per cent sublime, 60 per cent ridiculous: ENO’s The Valkyrie reviewed

It’s the final scene of The Valkyrie and Wotan is wearing cords. They’re a sensible choice for a hard-working deity: practical but with a certain retro flair. Slumbering under a red puffer jacket lies his daughter Brünnhilde, and as Wagner’s music yearns and flickers, the Lord of Ravens shuffles slowly around on all fours, methodically attaching the carabiners for the climactic flying effect. First one, then another. Then another. Four more to go! Possibly we’re not meant to be seeing this. Possibly it was meant to be obscured by the ‘large final fire effect’ that a slip in the programme tells us has been cut (‘despite extensive planning’) at the last minute. But right now, this is the climax: the moment of catharsis after five hours of wrenching music-drama. A hipster dad doing a spot of DIY.

Well, that’s live theatre, says the critic with his complimentary ticket. If I’d paid £180 for a seat I might be wondering why English National Opera couldn’t at least have mustered a bit of stage smoke.