Mary, Queen of Scots, English National Opera

Thea Musgrave’s Mary, Queen of Scots, first staged in 1977, has finally arrived in London nearly five decades on. Based on the real-life story of Mary Stuart during her turbulent reign in Scotland, the opera reimagines a queen trapped between personal passions and ruthless male power struggles. In this ENO production, Stewart Laing updates the action to a bleak 20th-century world, blending political drama with unsettling restraint. What’s new here is the attempt to strip back the grandeur, swapping period pomp for bobble hats, anoraks, and a marquee that slowly assembles, then vanishes, on stage. Whether that works is another matter.

Heidi Stober is undeniably the heart of this production. She brings grit, clarity, and sheer vocal brilliance to the role, commanding the stage in every scene. Her aria “Alone, alone, I stand alone” is the show’s emotional core, delivered with devastating vulnerability. Stober’s Mary feels like a woman trying to rule against all odds, caught between love, betrayal, and survival. The supporting cast is strong too: Alex Otterburn gives James a slick menace, Rupert Charlesworth’s Darnley is fiery and unravelling, while John Findon’s Bothwell grows increasingly chilling.

Musgrave’s score keeps the tension tight throughout. The music doesn’t aim to seduce but rather to unsettle, with winding woodwinds, sharp vocal lines and sudden bursts of lyricism that feel like brief moments of light in an otherwise cold world. Conductor Joana Carneiro keeps the pace taut, and the orchestra and chorus handle the challenging material with commitment.

But the production’s visual storytelling is where it falls short. The much-discussed marquee, gradually built across Acts I and II, feels more confusing than symbolic. By the time it’s dismantled in Act III, the metaphor has overstayed its welcome. The ensemble costumes, too, make the court look more like lost hikers than scheming aristocrats. Laing’s minimalist choices risk turning political machinations into something curiously flat. The set often isolates the characters rather than illuminating their relationships, creating emotional distance rather than dramatic impact.

There are flashes of brilliance, especially in the third act when everything intensifies, but the journey there is too uneven. Musgrave’s opera deserves a bold staging that reflects both Mary’s grandeur and her fall. Instead, we’re left with something that feels more like a missed opportunity than a triumphant revival.

Image credit: English National Opera