The elixir works its magic. The audience, which rather like the show itself takes time to warm up, by the end is delirious with the joys of a great night out. And the man whose night it pre-eminently was seems overjoyed. The performance dates from June 2005, with Rolando Villazón still relatively new to the stupendous success he was beginning to win and, it must be said, relishing every moment of it. He is in glorious voice, often singing (as in “Adina, credimi”) with vocal finesse and musical imagination. The part has always suited him. He presents a slight, nimble, excitable young fellow, quite willing to use his “little-boy-lost” look and to cut comic capers; equally capable, as in “Una furtiva lagrima”, of acting with dignity and restraint.

That solo and the ovation accorded it will not be soon forgotten, nor the increasing force of the viewer’s question: “Will there, or will there not, be an encore?”. Perhaps I’d better not say. Nor should I give away in advance the way the performance ends, though I will admit to sharing in the enjoyment. About the other principals there is nothing special to be said – Maria Bayo might have been enchanting in her role a few years ago, Bruno Praticò has more of charisma than of singing-style, and Jean-Luc Chaignaud is a fine figure of a man with a good but not very distinctive voice. The production (updating, but not too aggressively) has good points but wants more work with the chorus. Daniele Callegari conducts sympathetically. But I trust viewers will note the absence, at the end, of the most illustrious name of all among the singers. Again, so as to retain the pleasure of surprise, I won’t elucidate further. Save to propose an addition to the credits of the name of Beniamino Gigli.