Margaret Attwood’s scary story of existence under a pernicious Christian fundamentalist regime, The Handmaid’s Tale, made grim reading as a novel, was unbearable to watch as a TV series, and wins few converts to theocracy in the operatic adaptation by Danish composer Poul Ruders which has just had a new staging at English National Opera.
Nearly three hours of relentless misery, to a degree that begged for something in the way of light relief (tap-dancing chorus girls? A custard pie routine?), it was emotional assault and battery that no gentle soul could sit through undisturbed. But the appalling darkness of this piece had power – effectively controlled by Ruders’ music which responds to Attwood’s narrative in nuanced terms. The blackness comes in forty shades that never let your ear retreat into anaesthetised indifference. And I’d call it one of the outstanding operas of the past half-century.
