Opera Australia’s latest foray into twentieth-century opera arrived in Sydney this week with fanfares and fireworks. Australia’s national opera company has invested heavily in this picture perfect production of The King and I, and on opening night the gold dripped liberally from audience and stage alike. Elaborate set pieces, elephants marching across painted screens and curtains, and lavish costumes ticked all the boxes of operatic opulence, while the direction and story-telling was tight and effective. Best of all, in the second act choreographer Susan Kikuchi recreated Jerome Robbins exquisite ballet (Tuptim’s version of Uncle Tom’s Cabin). The dancing was the highlight of the show.

This production is, obviously, a vehicle for the golden couple, Lisa McCune (Anna) and Teddy Tahu Rhodes (The King), who created chemistry on stage and off in last year’s cracking production of South Pacific. They look and sound fabulous. McCune, in particular, owns the stage, channelling Julie Andrews in her brisk, nanny-like English accent and using her small but very sweet singing voice to maximum effect. She also looks the part in her magnificent hoop skirts.

Tahu Rhodes is less convincing. Nothing wrong with the voice: the vocal demands are well within his range and, if anything, his warm baritone sounds almost too rich, too milk chocolate-y at times. He has, however, been saddled with an awkward accent as part of his characterisation and while he makes a good fist of it, his vowels and consonants slip towards Antipodean every so often. The same can be said for his dancing and acting: his performance comes across as diligent and professional, but every so often he looks like Teddy Tahu Rhodes dressed as the King of Siam, not the King himself.

Shu-Cheen Yu is excellent as Lady Thiang, noble of bearing but with good comic instincts and an exciting soprano sound. The young lovers, Tuptim (Jenny Liu) and Lun Tha (Adrian Li Donni) come across as somewhat earnest, and the (mostly good) amplification does not pick up the best of Liu’s voice. Marty Rhone, as the Kralahome, Siam’s Prime Minister, moves with the charm and authenticity of a man who played the same role opposite Yul Brynner. (He did.) Finally, the children are delightfully winning, and not just because they are cute: they move, they sing, they act with a fluency that makes them utterly convincing.

This production has taken its share of flack over inconvenient cultural considerations, not least for its casting – the palace women are all played by actors of Asian descent, but the King of Siam is a white boy from New Zealand. As for its representation of Thai culture, like many operas before it (including Madama Butterfly, Otello, The Mikado, The Pearlfishers... need I go on?) The King and I is hopelessly conflicted. For my money, the intent is not malicious, so given the context, a 1950s fantasy, we acknowledge it is fantasy, we squirm at the pidgin English, and we move on. 

For me, the real elephant in the room (to borrow Lloyd Bradford Syke’s apposite metaphor) is not the inherently racist scenario, but the fact that this is a production which dates from 1991. Yes, 1991. In theatre terms, it is practically a museum exhibit. In musical terms, it is an ‘historically-informed performance’. It’s how we did opera twenty-five years ago.

The production certainly looks well-preserved, and you cannot fault the ensemble for their slick, professional delivery, but it does feel like one has entered a time warp. It’s a lovingly recreated period piece, but it’s not opera for 2014.