Cherish Candide

He is exiled, conscripted, swindled, shipwrecked, betrayed, attacked, robbed, and more but in a way that is somehow wildly entertaining. Credit here to director Dean Bryant, who has taken this chaotic beast of a show and turned it into something utterly delightful, where every moment feels intentional, no matter how ridiculous.

The cast is phenomenal. Eddie Perfect is our droll and deeply entertaining narrator, Voltaire, who also doubles as Pangloss, the smug, wildly unhelpful philosopher who keeps insisting everything is fine, even as cities collapse around him. Lyndon Watts is a gorgeous Candide, equal parts naive and lovable, never losing our sympathy even as he stumbles through one catastrophe after another.

And Annie Aitken as Cunegonde? She takes Glitter and Be Gay, a song so ludicrously difficult it should come with a warning label and belts it out with such flair and comic brilliance that it alone is worth the ticket price.

Visually, it’s a riot: Versailles meets steampunk meets your local Bunnings car park after a particularly wild weekend.  Designer Dann Barber has created a world where Versailles meets post-apocalyptic chic, complete with Crocs, powdered wigs, and a grimy caravan that somehow serves as both a castle and a shipwreck. The signs tracking Candide’s journey, stacking up like fridge magnets from increasingly ill-advised holidays, are a genius touch. Every costume, every set piece, every tiny visual joke adds to the feeling that we’re tumbling through a mad, glittering world where nothing makes sense—but in the best way possible.

And then there’s the music. Oh, the music! Bernstein’s score is legendary for a reason, an intoxicating mix of waltz, polka, Broadway dazzle, and sweeping orchestral grandeur. Under conductor Brett Weymark’s baton, the Opera Australia orchestra brings it to life beautifully, making even the most ridiculous moments feel utterly exhilarating.

Now, let’s talk about the satire, because, while this show is sparkly and hilarious, Voltaire was not messing around when he wrote Candide. This is a story that pokes at the foolishness of blind optimism, of trusting too much, of assuming that life must work out for the best just because we’d like it to. And this production gets that balance exactly right, yes, it’s ridiculous, yes, it’s wildly fun, but underneath it all, there’s a sharp little reminder that life is messy, unpredictable, and occasionally unfair.

And yet. Somehow, after all the madness, all the misfortune, all the gloriously over-the-top disaster, Candide ends on a note that is unexpectedly moving.

The final number, Make Our Garden Grow, lands like a warm hug, gently reminding us that while we can’t control the chaos of the world, we can choose to care for the little patch of it in front of us.

So, is this the best of all possible productions of Candide? Quite possibly. It’s funny, clever, visually stunning, musically brilliant, and leaves you feeling like you’ve just been spun around in the best possible way. And honestly, in a world that sometimes feels like a satire of itself, a bit of wit, sparkle, and wisdom is exactly what we need.

firstclassmagazine.co
opera.org.au