The storylines of Handel operas are either large-scale spectacle and crashing armies, or intense domestic dramas; Rodelinda  falls into the latter category, the armies already having crashed, and is loosely based on historic events in 7th century Lombardy.

The usurper Grimoaldo wants to secure the throne by marrying the late king’s widow Rodelinda, throwing over his intended, the late king’s sister Eduige in the process. Meanwhile, his adviser Garibaldo has designs on Eduige. The dethroned king, Bertarido, is only playing dead, and wanting to rescue his wife and son, Flavio, to make a new life together, far away from Grimoaldo.

ENO’s revival of the 2014 Richard Jones production is co-produced with  the Bolshoi and is played in modern dress. Along the way, Rodelinda has had a rather vulgar monument erected to her late husband. Except for a visit to the monument and, for Bertarido, to a lurid bar with lighting to give one a migraine, the action is set in a rather shabby dwelling. Rodelinda and Flavio are imprisoned in a white room with CCTV, which Grimoaldo watches obsessively in his wood-panelled study.

The first voice we hear is Rodelinda (Rebecca Evans) in her heart-breaking statement ‘I have lost him’. She conveys so many emotions over the course of the opera and always with such conviction that we can’t doubt her sincerity.

Tim Mead is excellent as Bertarido. Lamenting his fate – all but Garibaldo lament their fate at at least one point in the opera – he lets the pure sound of his voice and the music do the work, rather than emoting. Yet he can convey exasperation or desperation both vocally and in his occasionally shambling gait. His Act 2 duet with Rodelinda (Io t’abbraccio) is delicious – and so poignant as they are physically parted by their rooms separating off to the wings.

Juan Sancho’s light tenor voice is well-judged for the part of the usurper Grimoaldo – as tyrants go, he turns out to be a pretty cuddly one. He cannot bring himself to kill Flavio to win Rodelinda, nor can he kill Bertarido, despite the increasingly inventive implements of death proffered by the genuinely evil Garibaldo.

While Grimoaldo gets Rodelinda’s name tattooed across his shoulders early in Act 1, Eduige has Grimoaldo’s name across hers from the start. Susan Bickley has a meaty part, part sibling rivalry, part sexual jealousy, part natural deviousness which comes to the fore when she throws in her lot with her sister-in-law and brother, helping to rescue Bertarido once she’s sure he doesn’t want the throne back.

One hopes Neal Davies enjoys singing Garibaldo - more than two-faced, lacking in any restraint given the opportunity of violence, yet not as in control as he’d like to be. Christopher Lowrey is Grimoaldo’s adviser Unulfo (but secretly faithful to Bertarido) and shows a distinct bent for comedy. Matt Casey is a master of mime as the non-singing Flavio. There are some very good laughs in this revival, directed by Donna Stirrup.

The splendid singing is supported by crisp, clean playing in the orchestra, conducted by Christian Curnyn.