Opening on the same night as the English National Opera production of A Masked Ball, David Freeman's arena staging of Carmen was hyped in advance as embodying a "traditional" alternative to the atrocity that Calixto Bieito was supposedly preparing. It seems that a few memories need to be jogged. Fifteen years ago, Freeman was deemed one of opera's bad boys, and his productions were regularly greeted with the kind of outrage Bieito provokes now. Carmen, meanwhile, was deemed pornographic, brutal and repellent at its 1875 premiere. The work's subsequent popularity should blind no one to the fact that Bizet's study of the irrational nature of desire remains one of the most dangerous operas ever penned.
Freeman might have been expected to capture much of its force. On this occasion, however, he has misjudged the work. Bizet's sparseness of musical gesture makes Carmen ill-suited to the epic extravagances many directors foist on it. Though Freeman sometimes avoids excess, there is still too much clutter. He brings on stage two key events - the factory brawl and the final bullfight - that Bizet carefully leaves unseen, fatally breaking the impact of Jose's duet with Micaela and his murder of Carmen respectively. There are various audience participation moments that don't work. I could happily have strangled the extra, who, during the parade, screeched into my ear her demand that I buy a fan for 10 pesetas.
Freeman's use of space is also awkward. The set is a ramp spiralling up to a central platform where most of the action takes place, miles away from anyone in the audience. It's only in the third act that Freeman's imagination takes wing, with the smugglers filing in grim procession around the auditorium. Interpretatively, Freeman places the emphasis very much on Jose's psychological disintegration rather than on Carmen's self-determining sexuality. There are disquieting moments, notably Jose's attempted rape of Carmen just before her murder, but they are few and far between.
None of the principals have quite the requisite charisma. Things are impressive vocally, however, with John Uhlenhopp an outstanding Jose and Imelda Drumm a silken-toned Carmen. Peter Robinson's conducting has plenty of fire, though the coordination between orchestra and singers is occasionally poor. The amplified sound is variable: it is admirably balanced when people are singing, but extensive passages of the spoken dialogue vanish into a reverberant acoustic fog.
· Until March 7. Box office: 020-7589 8212.
