Fallen Fairies is a very curious production. Parts of it are genuine comic opera, others are almost verging upon the tragic note of Wagnerian drama, while Lutin’s song in the second act, “The lady in the case,” the couplets about kissing in the first act—

— and the whole of Lutin’s scenes of rather antiquated humour regarding a termagant wife and his own infidelity might have come straight out en bloc from any recent musical comedy without any great straining of the possibilities.

The story of Fallen Fairies is briefly told. It is, of course, based on the author’s earlier work, The Wicked World, produced many years ago at the Haymarket Theatre, and suggests itself as being quite a good one for the purposes of comedy opera. In Fairyland, “on the upper side of a cloud,” the inhabitants live in perfect peace and goodwill one towards another. They have been living their halcyon days apparently from the beginning of things, and might well have continued to do so had not somebody discovered that there existed a law which decreed that when a fairy visits the wicked world below his fairy counterpart—for every human being we are told has his counterpart in Fairyland—might be permitted to visit the fairies to be taught and be reformed by them until such time as the wanderer on earth should return home again.

This really happens at last; but when the two human beings, Ethais and Phyllon, arrive they so upset the halcyon realms of the fairies by introducing the hitherto unknown passion of love in their midst that at last there is so much turmoil, so many heart-breaks, and so much general confusion and jealousy, that at last the human element is asked to take itself off again and permit the fairies to return once more to their senses. Thus all ends happily with the resolve that come what may the fairies will never again allow their tranquil domain to be invaded by the terribly disturbing element of passionate human love.

It is an attractive story taken as a whole, and if the first act leads one practically nowhere the second makes up for this apparent purposelessness. There is not much humour, however, in the treatment, though the lyrics contain a good deal of the well-known Gilbertian wit, for alas! as a librettist of comic opera the successor of Sir W.S. Gilbert is as yet far to seek.

On the whole, however, there might have been a larger infusion of genuine humour and “go” inserted, while one gets appallingly tired of the feminine chorus which hardly ever leaves the stage for long. It is a very excellent chorus indeed, I own, but one may have too much of it, while the exclusion altogether of the masculine voice leads rather to monotony.

The music of Mr. Edward German, however, more than compensates for the other drawbacks. It is invariably charming, melodious, and graceful, while he has caught the spirit of the lyrics to a nicety. Certain passages—notably the melody by which the Fairy Queen calls up the mortals from earth, also her song in the first act and the music that accompanies the recovery of the fairies after the departure of the disturbing human element—are perfectly haunting in their beauty. Fallen Fairies, indeed, contains so much that is admirable and is played by a company which is really so excellent in every respect that with a little revision and brightening up it should draw all the town for a long time to come.

Page modified 28 June 2019