Joan Sutherland Theatre, Sydney Opera House
February 17, 2015

“Where are we?” asks a morphine addled Faust in the final act of Sir David McVicar’s take on Gounod’s version of Goethe. “In my domain!” replies his Satanic companion, revealed preening himself on the stage of a Parisian theatre. The French is actually “dans mon empire”, an apposite choice of term given the director’s temporal relocation of the action to the fag end of the reign of Napoleon III.

That juxtaposition of Méphistophélès’ sinful, sexual world of theatricals (complete with drink, drugs, pimps and whores) with the buttoned-up bourgeois morality of Second Empire France is what interests McVicar and thus his would-be decadent, decaying Doctor. In this production, church and state are interchangeable, but it’s the latter that wields the power if the final image is anything to go by. Either way, it all works a treat, making sense of Faust’s journey from nouveau cradle to grave without recourse to nonsensical mysticism and magic.

In McVicar’s realisation, Méphistophélès is a shyster showman, shape-shifting from dandy to pimp to pusher and even managing a fetching turn in full moustachioed drag. His demons (a terrific bunch of extra actor/dancers) are on hand to thumb their...