China National Peking Opera Company, Sadler’s Wells, London, review: Highly stylised

The hero of the The Phoenix Returns Home makes his first appearance in purple silk, gorgeously embroidered with wisteria flowers. “He is dressed so shabbily,” the heroine notes sympathetically. “His family must have fallen on hard times.”

Peking Opera (this state troupe still uses the older form of the city’s name, rather than the modern Beijing) combines song, dance, acrobatics and spectacular costumes to tell its stories. Roles and performances are highly stylised, with makeup and clothes identifying characters as particular types – the beautiful heroine, the clown, the dignified older man.

The Phoenix Returns Home is one of the most popular comedies, created in 1929 by Dr Mei Langfang and given its European premiere here. The setup is familiar from fairy tales and traditional comedies around the world: there are two sisters, one plain and one pretty, ambitious parents, a poor but handsome scholar and a rich older lord. After posing as their better-looking counterparts, the ugly sister and the lord accidentally end up married. It takes a quartet of gossiping, matchmaking generals to sort out the confusion and reunite the pretty people.

The spite of the “ugly woman” plotline is softened by the huge energy of the character, played by the male actor Chen Guosen. He bounds joyfully on, his loping stride in contrast to the delicate glide of Li Shengsu’s heroine. When rebuked for lack of filial respect, he replies: “They praise you and tell me I’m ill-mannered, why would I want to listen to that?” Chen’s reactions are a delight, broad but delicate.

Li, who is the head of Troup 1 of this company, floats through the elaborate gestures with gentle wit. Being a good girl, she turns her back to giggle, her long sleeves making a graceful arc as she spins.

This is a domestic comedy that finds time for a battle scene. Warriors sprint and tumble, somersaulting through the fight with silken robes flying. The pace of Peking Opera tends to be stately, with lots of declamation and formal setpieces. But there’s a warmth to the writing and performances, a friendliness in its observation of the comic characters.

The foolish lord, exuberantly played by Wang Jue, changes robes three times in one scene, and is put out to be offered a costume he has worn once already. “If I, a lord, must live so humbly, how will ordinary people manage?”