The first notes to sound in the Grosses Festspielhaus are gunshots and police sirens, a subterranean shootout in which a political prisoner is busted out of a carabinieri van. He climbs a spiral staircase, the set sinks and we’re in a church as Christian Thielemann and the Staatskapelle Dresden unleash Scarpia’s threatening opening chords. For yes, this is Puccini’s Tosca as a thriller, directed for last year’s Salzburg Easter Festival by Michael Sturminger. And for the most part it works very well, leading to a denouement which is, well, thrilling.

For an opera where the libretto states specific times and locations, Tosca takes to relocation remarkably well. The setting here is clearly the present day. There’s a photograph of Pope Francis on the wall of the choirboys’ dormitory at the start of Act 3. Cavaradossi’s portrait of Mary Magdalene is a hideous modern sculpture which looks as if she’s wrapped in tin foil. His lunch ‘basket’ is a plastic bag containing a bottle of San Pellegrino. Sturminger’s modernisation extends to the subtitles: ‘I saw a copper’s mug in every face!’ declares Angelotti. Was the libretto translated by an EastEnders scriptwriter?

The outstanding Anja Harteros is a chic Tosca in shades and slacks in Act 1, looking every inch a diva, while Ludovic Tézier’s Scarpia is a white-haired mafia boss, creepily detaining one of the choirgirls before the Te Deum – a stylised procession – then crossing himself and kissing his ring. Tezier’s aristocratic baritone suits the suave Godfather scenario, his gesture to his henchman indicating Cavaradossi’s going to receive an offer he can’t refuse down in the baron’s torture chamber. His Act 2 scene with Tosca is pure cat-and-mouse, both singers on vibrant form, even when Harteros is made to begin ‘Vissi d’arte’ lying across Scarpia’s desk.

Aleksandrs Antonenko’s Cavaradossi isn’t quite in their class, rough and ready, but he sings lustily, from the heart. He scribbles ‘E lucevan le stelle’ on the back of an envelope from a nightclub rooftop – Il Divo, I kid you not – overlooking St Peter’s. He clearly knows his number is up as he faces an execution squad chillingly drawn from choirboy volunteers. But what does this mean for Tosca? Sturminger has a neat twist up his sleeve, which I shan’t spoil here.

Thielemann wouldn’t necessarily be everyone’s – anyone’s? – idea of a natural Puccini conductor but there’s a certain plush symphonic grandeur to the Staatskapelle’s playing which is highly persuasive.