Casting call for 'Moneyball'

 Investment Casting  was played by Brian Green, who was more convincing as speaking actor than as singer. Antigone, the tessitura of whose role prohibited intelligibility, was the miscast Idit Arad. Only Ismene, her sister who urges compliance with state power, performed with any distinction. A dancer, the Spirit of the City, appeared from time to time and did what dancers do. The chorus was divided up intoCastings Ministers of this and that. The two longest narrations, by a Guard and a Messenger, were both spoken, which would have been a great relief if one of them hadn't turned it into a comic gaffer part, while the other, an award-winning Contemporary Magician, was so inept that it was clearly a calculated though inscrutable effect. When the music resumed it was mainly a levelling metrical device, with the orchestra, perched on a balcony above the stage, sometimes Die Casting making some agreeable noises, but hardly connecting with anything on stage. I remain amazed that so much talent could be pooled and produce this. Shouldn't opera companies employ a critic -- an honorary role, of course -- to tell them when they are hopelessly adrift?

There was fun to be had at the Linbury Studio, in the form of a Walton double bill, though the enjoyable part was non-operatic.

It's a long time since I've been to a performance of Façade, 1976 in fact, sitting next to a sternly disapproving Walton. This was far better, with the orchestra on electrically brilliant form under the talented Dominic Grier. The two speakers hit just the right note of giving the impression that they understood what Sitwell's nonsense meant, while maintaining the conspiratorial Steel Casting expression of people who have seen round it. The 1920s, now in vogue in operatic directors' circles, came more vividly to life here than upstairs with Cavalli or at the Coliseum with Handel.

 That's a win-win for Beane. First, a retelling of the "Moneyball" story, which heralded his genius at building a contender on a shoestring. And second, a chance to see yourself portrayed on the big screen by Brad Pitt.

A guy can't wish for anything better than that -- at least not since John Wayne died and Arnold Schwarzenegger went into politics.

Unfortunately, Walton's one-act comedy The Bear, which needs help, didn't get it.

Probably more fun to hear than to see, in any case, this was no joy to look at, with a set that was both ugly and bewildering. The role of the widow Yelina was assimilated by Monika-Evelin Liiv to Lady Bracknell, with uniformly stentorian singing, and crossing the stage in a couple of manly strides. Her voice can surely not stand much misuse of this degree, and she has to be taken firmly in hand as an actress. The Bear of the title, not looking in the least like one, was the Precision Casting appealing Kostas Smoriginas, who is also singing several small roles in major productions during the current season. I hope he, too, makes a better impression in them. All the performers, onstage and in the pit, seemed to think they were playing in the Verona Arena, whereas whispering is recommended in the Linbury, and rewarded.