Most wonderful. A rich, comic, bold production from opera director David Pountney, this is one of the most exhilarating Twelfth Nights I have seen.

Often very funny (only in Malvolio’s letter-reading is humour subdued to character) there is too a chill in the air of Su Huntley and Donna Muir’s tilted, colourful mind-where-you-tread marine set. At times the stage is swept by the beam from a huge lighthouse. Just so, Pountney finds riches and detail in the play, while John Harle’s sax-soaked score, ranging from wild screeches accompanying film of crashing waves to Feste’s songs for sentimental lovers, is beautifully integrated.

The action is framed by Feste staring wistfully at a suspended saxophone while “Come away death” sees Rebecca Egan’s fine, androgynous Viola longingly observing Orsino as they rest near each other.

Such longings, frustrations and desires bring madness - Richard Durden’s telegraph-pole Malvolio is crazed by self-love as he appears startlingly transmogrified in cross-gartered yellow. Feste and Toby are driven by anger, while Christopher Good’s excellent, ingenuous Aguecheek, fumblingly removing his yellow neck-scarf never avoids the air of melancholy. Olivia suffers most; Alexandra Mathie captures her horror as she sees the twins entwine and realises she is married to a stranger.