Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado remains an engaging piece of musical theatre despite having seen its first performance in 1885. The Japanese setting in the mythical town of Titipu masks some dark and surreal British humour about government and power and whether the punishment should fit the crime that is not out of place today.

Mild mannered Ko-Ko (Matt Greenwood) finds himself Lord High Executioner of Titipu . He flirted, and that attracts the death penalty. So the townspeople, not particularly wanting executions, appoint him to the job on the grounds that he can hardly execute himself.

Ko-Ko is engaged to Yum-Yum (Alyssa Morse) but the Mikado's son Nanki-Poo (Lachlan McGinness) is courting her in disguise. He's run from the court of his father to escape the attentions of the overbearing Katisha (Janene Broere). But the Mikado (Peter Smith) and Katisha arrive wanting evidence that some capital punishment has actually taken place. Neither are particularly pleased when it looks as if the Mikado's son has been killed.

Actually the wily Ko-Ko has talked the lovesick suicidal Nanki-Poo into exchanging a month's marriage to Yum-Yum for a death by execution that will get Ko-Ko off the hook. But has Ko-Ko doomed himself, as well as his co-conspirators?

This production is a gently cheerful one and mostly well sung, although reservations can be had about G and S and amplification.

McGinness is a gormless and lanky Nanki-Poo, well matched by Morse's tall and sweet voiced Yum-Yum. Terry Johnson has dignity as the pompous Poo-Bah and there's a certain likeably calm presence in Tristan Foon's Pish-Tush.

What a madrigal is doing in Titipu is anyone's guess but Brightly Dawns our Wedding Day, a madrigal in which the careful formality of the style contrasts with the ghastly predicaments of the protagonists, is delightfully done.

As Yum-Yum's schoolmates Anna Greenwood (Pitti-Sing) and Therese Buetre (Peep-Bo) are both strong and funny. Greenwood is nicely comic and forceful when Pitti-Sing joins with Poo-Bah and Ko-Ko in conspiracy.

Ko-Ko's "little list" of people who will not be missed is in good hands with Matt Greenwood, with the traditional updates working well. He develops a quietly pragmatic Ko-Ko who gives in to Broere 's Katisha with resignation as he sings about the suicidal bird that dies for love in Tit-Willow. They could both sharpen the comedy more but the future of the relationship is obvious.

Hovering over all is Smith, in good voice as a wryly sinister and authoritative Mikado. And backing up the principals is an impressive chorus.

The orchestra survived a bit of early nervousness but came through well. The costume colours are muted and the designs mostly graceful, the set is basic but evocative and if the lighting cues are ever smoothed out and the transitions slowed down there will be some magical moments. A good introduction, if you need one, to the world of The Mikado.