The First Commandment, Wilton's Music Hall, London<!-- none onestar twostar threestar fourstar fivestar -->

Before taking his place at the harpsichord at the head of his period band, artistic director Ian Page issued a word of warning. This wasn't going to be The Magic Flute, he said, but it was definitely something worth listening to. The first audience for Mozart's oratorio Die Schuldigkeit des Ersten Gebots – "The First Commandment" – had been wary for a different reason: was it really possible that this ambitious work had been written by an 11-year-old boy?

The tiny stage at Wilton's had been stylishly transformed into an airport departure lounge. We watched the hero – described in the text as "a lapsed Christian" – put aside his Penguin classic, open a beer, clip on his headphones and fall asleep on a bench, in which posture he remained for the next 25 minutes.

During this time, Justice, Christian Spirit and Forgiveness – in the form of three flight attendants – ruminated musically on the (pretty mild) decadence of his lifestyle. Then he woke up, was visited by Worldly Spirit, and battle commenced for his soul.

This conceit had been deftly reworked for an irreligious age by librettist Nigel Lewis, while Page had found singers capable of simultaneously delivering fine music and broad comedy. For this music really is remarkable: the overture starts conventionally, but one quickly realises how mature Mozart's grasp of orchestral colour and vocal possibilities was.

Bill Bankes-Jones's production was full of visual jokes and knowing little complicities. But when Worldly Spirit soprano Sophie Bevan made her entry as a Big Brother ladette in scarlet chiffon, the comedy came at us with gale force: while filling the stage – and pelting the audience – with consumer delights, she filled the air with accurate flights of coloratura.

The final scene was a brilliant coup de théâtre: the trio that underpins it is a da capo piece that goes on and on, and the singer who held it all together is a young tenor of whom I predict we shall soon hear a great deal more. Robin Tritschler married the sweetest tone to the most refined comic artistry: as far as I was concerned, he could have gone on singing all night.