Obviously we’re not precisely at the opera. If so, the doors would have been shut against all-comers at the scheduled start time and there wouldn’t be all these people standing around in the auditorium drinking and chatting. And no one telling them to shut up and sit down. 

So far, so fabulous, as are the huge chandeliers that bestow an atmosphere that’s grandiose and more than a little louche. When they do sit down, some of the audience occupies nightclub-style tables that flank a runway and there’s a bar to one side of the theatre for the convenience of one and all.

It’s a tone and look that suits Luke Di Somma and Constantine Costi’s tragicomedy Siegfried & Roy perfectly. The legendary Las Vegas entertainers were the last word in over-the-top theatricality and ruled the Strip for more than a decade. Even though they were as camp as Christmas they managed to attract and keep a huge and adoring mainstream following. Behind the scenes the two were less in harmony than the ampersand that forever joined them might suggest.

Di Somma and Costi seize the possibilities with great skill. Bavarian-born Siegfried Fischbacher and Roy Horn each had a childhood they couldn’t wait to escape. After meeting on a cruise ship they formed a nightclub act whose point of difference was Roy’s affinity with wild animals. (He nicked his first one from a zoo.) 

After struggle years in Europe they were talent-spotted by Princess Grace of Monaco and their career took off. Vegas and untold wealth were the pinnacle; the mauling of Roy by his beloved white tiger Mantacore was the nadir.

Di Somma and Costi’s libretto swiftly and concisely covers the ground. Some characters are smooshed together and licence is taken – Mantacore’s embrace of Princess Grace is a glorious example – but essentially it’s all there. The clarity of Di Somma and Costi’s story-telling is impressive, even with the occasional sin of too-explicit flagging of events and ideas. 

The most powerful decision was to place Mantacore at the centre of the drama. History had to be manipulated to make it happen but Mantacore is a key figure, embodied brilliantly in a puppet designed by Erth Physical & Visual and operated by Thomas Remaili and Kirby Myers. 

The big cat is emblematic of pretty much everything in Siegfried & Roy: the exotic, the flirting with danger, the wackiness, the showbiz-as-jungle metaphor and, ultimately the undeniable thrill of it all. Moreover, Mantacore was essentially the third party in a triangular love story. The men had a difficult and secretive offstage relationship; Mantacore had Roy’s constant affection. 

Di Somma, who is also the show’s composer and conducts a splendid onstage ensemble, says it all with a sweet theme written for the tiger, part of an engagingly eclectic score. Style is unfailingly suited to times and places and knitted together with much finesse. 

After an overture with brassy Gershwin-like vitality the sound world includes Bavarian oom-pah-pah, sleek nightclub-ready orchestrations as the men’s act becomes more sophisticated, amusing quotes from Wagner’s Ring Cycle, operetta and lively cabaret. Individual arias for baritone Christopher Tonkin’s introspective Siegfried and tenor Kanen Breen’s rackety, pleasure-seeking Roy are more clearly operatic in intent as the two reveal how different their characters and aspirations are and how tightly they are nevertheless intertwined.

Ultimately Siegfried, having had enough of success, has a yearning for his homeland. Roy enjoys the recklessness fame allows him and in this reading his carelessness plays a part in precipitating Mantacore’s career-ending attack.

This is where the show’s been heading all evening but this part of the story needs more room to breathe. Di Somma and Costi bring Siegfried & Roy in at a tight 90 minutes at the cost of getting more deeply and affectingly into the men’s private life. Countertenor Russell Harcourt becomes the voice of Mantacore and the truth-teller too abruptly. The material is good but at present lives too far outside the narrative as it stands. It’s not often that one thinks a new work should be 10 minutes or so longer but that’s the case here. 

Like its protagonists Siegfried & Roy is not without fault but it does reach imaginatively for magic both real and metaphorical and, in Costi’s production, mostly captures it.

Tonkin and Breen, for whom no praise is too much, have sterling support from an A-list group of artists onstage and off. Harcourt, Louis Hurley, Cathy-Di Zhang, Simon Lobelson and Danielle Bavli take on several roles each and nail the lot. Tim Chappel supplies blingy costumes to the max on what was undoubtedly a tight budget, Shannon Burns gets everyone moving as if born to Vegas and Damien Cooper’s lighting is crucial in scene-setting.   

There is also the unique treat of seeing zippy soprano Zhang being sawn in half while singing merrily in high operatic style (Adam Mada is the magic consultant). Yes, it’s a favourite old magic trick and no, we still don’t know how it’s done that close to an audience on a catwalk. What fun.

Siegfried & Roy ends on January 25.

This is a version of a review that appeared in The Australian on January 14.