One notable feature of Longborough Festival Opera, perhaps its defining feature, is the wonderfully incongruous mismatch between the grand-opera aspirations of the Graham family, its owners (they plan to stage Die Walküre next year!) and the glorified Gloucestershire agricultural barn in which they put the shows on.

But some grand operas themselves sprang from incongruity. Britten’s 1960 masterpiece A Midsummer Night’s Dream was premiered in a village hall. Indeed,one could argue that, compared with the dingy Jubilee Hall in Aldeburgh, the Grahams’ barn (which nowadays does a passable imitation of a small but pretty Italian opera house) is almost overequipped.

Richard Studer’s new production certainly creates an alluring spectacle on what, I presume, was a frayed shoestring. Beanpole-like Chinese lanterns rise from the floor to represent the magic Athenian forest; later, dozens of white balloons mark the nuptial festivities. The fairies (all female) look like Elizabethan courtiers who have strayed into a Las Vegas floor show.

Mark Saberton’s genial Bottom and his fellow mechanicals are morris dancers, replete with floral garlands round their brows. Greville Matthews’s Puck uses his circus skills to give numerous twirling displays on hanging ropes — not entirely relevant to the plot, but entertaining.

The counter-tenor Richard Scott (below) wins the award for Campest Oberon of the Year in a skirt-hoop and tight-fitting Tudor bodice that does strange uplifting things to his nipples (pity his voice doesn’t flounce as flamboyantly). By contrast, George von Bergen’s striking Demetrius looks as if he has stepped straight off the Sgt Pepper album cover.

Britten’s enchanting but often quite sinister score is very decently played, its fiendish trumpet part particularly crisply delivered by Torbjörn Hultmark. The conductor, Jonathan Lyness, keeps the ensembles flowing smoothly, and there’s some admirable singing from Michael Bracegirdle (Lysander), Julian Close (Quince) and, late on, Gaynor Keeble (Hippolyta). But elsewhere there is a pervasive laziness about enunciating the text. That, and a lack of fizz and humour in Studer’s staging, makes the show duller than it should be. Perhaps the energy level will rise as the temperature drops.

Box office: 01451 830292, until Sun

Editor's choice

• The 100 Best Films of the Decade
• 70 facts you didn't know about Marvel
• The 50 Biggest Movies Of 2010