Carmen, Royal Opera House review ★★★★★

Like The Archers, opera has characters who never appear. Foremost among these is the possessive mother of Carmen's latest conquest, in Bizet's evergreen tragedy. Letters from mother, messages from mother, a kiss from mother, all delivered by faithful Micaëla… Upwardly mobile Don José is being pulled in two directions.

In Italian director Damiano Michieletto's new production for the Royal Opera, this mother is often visible, gliding on stage with all the imperiousness of Goya's Duchess of Alba, clad in black from her mantilla down. She does not speak, or sing, but she looms, ominously. It's an ingenious concept – it might work in wordless ballet – but here the notion is uncomfortable.

Let's be clear: when Don José turns killer in the fourth act, he is own man, not his absent mother's puppet. Elderly women do not murder young ones; men do. Yes, mothers can be a pain. I am one. But it's a big leap from irritation to homicide. In this production Carmen is not slut-shamed; but the señora is blamed for her demise.

Blaise Malaba (left) as Zuniga is wrong-footed by Carmen (Aigul Akhmetshina). Photo: Camilla Greenwell

But no one and nothing can upstage the magnificent mezzo-soprano Aigul Akhmetshina, in the title role. Born to sing Carmen, with her sultry good looks, easy movement and voluptuous, colourful voice, she commands the stage in every scene. In demand all over the world for years to come, this singer is never to be missed, and we won't hear her like again for a long time. Just listen to the luscious depths of her lower notes and enjoy those winging phrases.

In truth, there is not much else going on. Michieletto's Spain, in Paolo Fantin's design, is a bare 1970s southern dustbowl, crisp with heat. Men and women of indeterminate occupation, or none, fan themselves in the sun, but no one quenches their thirst, or struggles with a bag, or goes shopping. Who are these people, every last one, regardless of age, carefully kitted out by Carla Teti in the eye-popping separates of fashion's darkest hour? Their children, at least, are all go. Dressed for a Ladybird book and playing cowboys and indians, they pull off, between acts, some nice gags that would sit better in a different opera.

Polish tenor Piotr Beczala as Don José is the confident town hunk who becomes deranged by his infatuation with Carmen, but he is no match for Akhmetshina, with wayward phrasing and intonation. There are very sparky performances from Sarah Dufresne and Gabrielė Kupšytė as friends Frasquita and Mercédès. And as ever, bass Blaise Malaba leaves you wanting more, this time as José's commander Zuniga.

Rivals for Carmen, Don José (Piotr Beczala) and Escamillo ( Kostas Smoriginas). Photo: Camilla Greenwell

Ukrainian soprano Olga Kulchuynska makes her house debut as a pure-voiced and sympathetic Micaëla, the exact opposite in temperament to Lithuanian bass-baritone Kostas Smoriginas's glam rock toreador, Escamillo, a vision in chartreuse and a more natural fit for Carmen than José. Besides, as she confides to the village girls, to the alarm of their mothers, her technique is to fall for men who don't fall for her.

If the whole is disappointingly underwhelming, that is partly because Michieletto and this same team gave us the unmatched Cavalleria Rusticana and Pagliacci that is one of the cornerstones of Covent Garden's repertoire. If they meant to create something of the same claustrophobia and hothouse of small town life with Carmen, the project foundered. Maybe a one-act opera can sustain a notion that flags over four acts. The mix of real-life and fantasy leave the audience feeling detached from the action rather than pulling them into the action, as in Cav and Pag.

Olga Kulchynska as timid Micaëla. Photo: Camilla Greenwell

This lethargy comes partly from the pit, where conductor Antonello Manacorda sets out at a good lick but flags over the distance. Some music almost comes to a standstill. This nevertheless indestructible opera is packed with bangers. Bizet, shattered by a disastrous first night, died before the opera became the box office gold it is today (witness the unusually generous 16 performances, with a new cast from 12-31 May). Whatever the shortcomings of this production, it's a score to revel in at every chance.

The Orchestra of the Royal Opera House and the aimless chorus are musically as rock solid as ever, with tender solo playing in the pit. Over time the whole production may loosen up and speed up, but the omnipresent mother is a problem that every audience member will have to solve for themselves.

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Carmen is sung in French with English surtitles. The performance on 1 May is relayed live to cinemas across London and the world, with an Encore screening on 5 May: click here for details. Further performances at Covent Garden are on 11, 14, 16, 23, 26 April, 1, 5, 12, 17, 20, 23, 25, 29 and 31 May