Tamino John Hudson Three ladies Elizabeth Woollett, Nerys Jones, Ethna Robinson Papageno Riccardo Simonetti Queen of Night Cara O'Sullivan Monostatos John Graham-Hall Pamina Susannah Glanville Three boys Daniel Lawrence, Jefferson Toal, James Boxer Speaker Arwel Huw Morgan Sarastro Andrew Greenan First priest/armed man Murray Kimmins Second priest/armed man Christopher Ross Papagena Sally Harrison Conductor Christopher Moulds Original director Nicholas Hynter Revival director David Ritch Designer Bob Crowley This production has been around since 1988, but last night's performance was sold out -- I had to buy a full-price ticket rather than strolling along to the box office at lunchtime for a day seat. Chiz. But worth every penny. Part of the reason The magic flute sells out is that people take children to see it. This production is straightforward enough for fairly young children (of known tolerance to opera, please) but adults will find it beautiful and enjoyable. The Englightenment Egyptian decor is attractive, in a restrained way, not portentous. The acting (using cutdown spoken dialogue in the typical Jeremy Sams style) was modified panto, with a jolly Lancashire Papageno and Papagena, and a white-faced silent movie villain Monostatos somewhere between Erik the phantom of the opera and Gwynplaine, the man who laughs. But everything seemed to fit the eighteenth-century popular theatrical context. All the singers were good. Andrew Greenan had a heavy cold, and a couple of rough moments, but was generally fine. Riccardo Simonetti (born in Lancashire) was a very attractive Papageno, and Cara O'Sullivan had all the notes as the Queen of Night. The three ladies were very sexy, vocally as well as in appearance (with Bride of Frankenstein hair). John Graham-Hall was also very good as Monostatos. This was really an ensemble production, though, and John Hudson's strength as Tamino was not upstaging everyone else. We got the curtain speech again, asking us to write to Chris Smith and Richard Eyre. This season at the ENO is turning out so well (after a slight hiccough with The flying Dutchman) that the case for keeping the company more or less as it is, in a large house, seems unanswerable. Like Jonathan Miller's Rigoletto, this Magic flute is going to be worth seeing for some years to come. It can also fill the Coliseum.