In Germany, Britain (Handel at ENO, Monteverdi at WNO, La Calisto in 2008 at Covent Garden), and now the Netherlands, American director David Alden’s stagings of early operas, often conducted by Ivor Bolton, have revelled in the diversity, humanity and comedy of these multi-disciplined works.

Ercole amante (“Hercules as Lover”) was Cavalli’s offering for the Paris wedding of Louis XIV. A soon-to-be-familiar operatic combination of technical problems and Franco-Italian bitchery (Lully, who reserved the writing of the ballet music for himself, had his share too) delayed the premiere and took the gilt off its success – although his majesty did actually dance in the performance. Ercole spins the tale of the self-satisfied, over-ambitious semi-divine hero over-reaching himself, and coming to grief on Earth but bliss in the heavens. His quest is to abandon wife Deianira in favour of Iole, his son Hyllo’s beloved. In this, Ercole is egged on or misguided by goddesses Venere and Giunone, and comic servants Licco and Paggio. He is brought down by a conspiracy of the wronged starring the return from the underworld of Iole’s father Eutyro and ghostly colleagues. All this is abundantly clear in Alden’s production – but there’s not a syllable about it in Opus Arte’s pretty but generalised booklet.

The production, like the piece, is moving, funny and literally action-packed. Alden knows well when to fill or empty his stage. All the effects that Paris’s famous 1660s Salle des Machines provided – Giunone flying in, Nettuno rising from the sea on a huge boat – are here. There is also a stream of little comic decorations like Hyllo’s trainers, Ercole’s huge 12-pack of Heineken and the representation of Sonno (“sleep”) by a character dancer. Jonathan Lunn’s choreography is, rightly, not restricted to the “dance sections” and moves seamlessly from Lully to Lady Gaga.

The look of the show – designer Paul Steinberg, lighting by Adam Silverman – is “modern” in the sense that 17th-century Italian Baroque is realised through eyes informed by 20th-century American painting and comic strips. Coloured printed wallpapers and rich red, blue and yellow costumes dominate. The prologue scenes at court, the descent to the scary black-and-white underworld with Eutyro coming out of his coffin, and the gold and blue of Ercole’s heavenly apotheosis, are as lavish as a Sun King could want – and seem well served by the depth and definition of the Blu-ray pictures. For the soloists’ costumes Constance Hoffman uses a similarly heightened, modern-refracted period look, with Ercole as hero sporting a long blond wig (good for flicking), overall plastic body prosthetics, boxing shorts and platform heels.

Cavalli seems to have been especially stirred by the plight of Hyllo, the antics of the comics and the long section (called here Act 4, scene 7) in which Eutyro and other dead are recruited against Ercole. Bolton leads his large authentic-instrument forces with gusto. They include an exceptional battery of continuo instruments to make dark noises in the storm interludes. It’s invidious to pick from such a real ensemble cast but Umberto Chiummo (as always) gives great comic and sinister detail to his three roles, Jeremy Ovenden sings beautifully as the put-upon son and Anna Bonitatibus is a flighty, controlling Juno. Hugely recommended.