Opera Australia | The Merry Widow
8 July, 2026, Sydney Opera House, NSW
Audible gasps greeted the rise of the curtain. Before a note had been sung, Graeme Murphy’s sumptuous Art Deco world had already won over the opening-night audience. What followed was three glorious acts of manipulation, romance, misunderstanding, diplomatic machinations and, ultimately, love. Sexy, silly and funny, Opera Australia’s production of The Merry Widow proves that beneath the champagne, feathers and unforgettable waltzes lies a surprisingly affectionate satire on society and the glorious complexity of human relationships.
Murphy’s production is opulent in every sense. Symmetrical Art Deco screens become windows, doors and alcoves with cinematic fluidity, while Jennifer Irwin’s exquisite costumes shimmer with embroidery, feathers, tiaras and military finery. Every prop, every gesture and every member of the cast appears meticulously styled, creating a world where nothing is accidental. It is a feast for the eyes from beginning to end, culminating in a spectacular finale of sweeping red staircases and a dazzling gold gown worthy of the operetta’s lavish reputation.
Just as important is the orchestra under Vanessa Scammell. Lehár’s irresistible score is the engine that drives everything on stage, and Scammell shapes it with warmth, elegance and buoyancy. The lush strings, glowing harp and delicate woodwinds frame the action beautifully, allowing romance, comedy and choreography to flow perfectly together. Long after the curtain falls, those memorable melodies remain firmly lodged in the ear!
At the heart of the evening is Julie Lea Goodwin’s Hanna Glawari. She possesses exactly what the role demands: grace, aplomb and the effortless ability to command every room she enters. Hanna is no helpless widow waiting to be rescued. Quite the opposite. She quietly manipulates almost everyone around her while patiently waiting for the man she truly loves to overcome his own pride. It’s less “woman rescued by man” than “woman patiently waiting for the man to fricking grow up.” Goodwin’s rendition of the “Vilja” aria is a vocal highlight, her radiant soprano floating effortlessly above the orchestra, while an exquisite theatrical moment sees her serenely elevated above the stage by four attendants with astonishing poise. Unbelievable elegance.
Opposite her, Alexander Lewis is a wonderfully engaging Danilo. Part raconteur, part ennui-filled homesick diplomat and part reluctant romantic, he combines impeccable comic timing with a rich, confident voice that consistently stands out. The chemistry between Lewis and Goodwin is palpable, expressed as much through Murphy’s choreography as through the dialogue. One lingering touch as their hands slowly slide along each other’s arms and continue into a distant void says more than pages of lyrics ever could.
The entire company embraces the operetta’s playful spirit. The chorus is not merely a vocal ensemble but an integral theatrical force, moving with balletic precision throughout. The sequence in the ‘most famous restaurant in the world’ Maxim’s is pure theatrical delight, with silver-service waiters weaving through the stage in brilliantly choreographed patterns before erupting into full splits and high-kicking exuberance alongside can-can dancers. Benjamin Rashid almost steals the evening with an hilarious comic turn that transforms an otherwise wisely understated character into an outrageously camp Parisian (after a glass of magic potion – french champagne).
What makes The Merry Widow endure, however, is that it is far more than empty entertainment. Beneath the glamour, it gently pokes fun at pompous authority, diplomats who achieve little, fading aristocrats, Parisian high society and even nationalism itself. Nobody escapes the joke, yet the satire is affectionate rather than cynical. The music never loses sight of the fact that, despite all the games and manipulation, this is ultimately a story about rediscovering love.
When they finally kiss, the audience erupts in applause. After three acts of pride, misunderstanding and longing, what else could there be to celebrate but love?
Although this was opening night, Murphy’s glamorous production will feel to the audience like an opening night every night. Dress up, make an evening of it and embrace the occasion — you won’t feel out of place. And if you’re a lover of musical theatre who has always wondered whether opera is for you, The Merry Widow may be the perfect place to start: an irresistible blend of Broadway charm, operatic voices and Viennese sparkle that sends you home smiling and humming – and maybe I will admit to waltzing a little on the Opera House cobble stones on the way to the taxi rank!
