Fidelio

As is not unusual in opera men get mistaken for women and vice versa. Boys are often played by girls and women by men (admittedly, less often). All very amusing. But when the leading boy is played by a girl with the sort of very long blonde hair that would give her first refusal for the leading part in the next Timotei advert, then one does start to wonder how it is that the (real) girl to whom she becomes engaged hadn't twigged that something wasn't quite right at an earlier stage. At least they didn't have some weird East Enders style misunderstanding when boy (girl) and future father in law descend into the dungeon to dig the grave of boy's (ie girl's) real husband (the murderer). You're with me so far. Good. When boy (girl) announces that she is the murderer's wife, all becomes clear; they decide not to dig a grave after all and somehow peace and love breaks out and all the prisoners are released. Some other people do some other things and, apparently, that's the end of tyranny.

This was Beethoven's only opera. And it shows. He writes a good tune and all that, but the plot of Fidelio defies any... well, thing. According to Anna, I have no soul. But, I'm entitled to a view and, on this occasion, I just didn't get it.