A hugely enlarged label from a champagne bottle greets you as you enter the auditorium. Painted on to a front cloth, it reads; "Die Fledermaus - Brut". Quite right too, for Johann Strauss II's celebrated operetta is nothing if it is not full of fizz. In this production, the action has been updated to the 1930s, and takes place on a huge, revolving, art deco set, which comes complete with glass walls that stretch from floor to ceiling (designer: Benoit Dugardyn). Perhaps this set would not fit on to the New Theatre stage, and that is one of the reasons why Glyndebourne has dropped Oxford from its touring schedule this year?

Soon Alfred, a singing teacher, saunters in. "I hear you have a vacancy in the husband department: I've come to fill it," he announces, in the exaggerated tones of an old-fashioned operatic tenor: the new English translation used in this production (by Stephen Lawless and Daniel Dooner) bristles with double entendres. The part of Alfred could have been written for the comic talents of Bonaventura Bottone, who, with his rolling eyes and wicked grin, plainly relishes every second he spends on stage.

The object of Alfred's attentions is Rosalinde, currently wife of Count von Eisenstein. She is not in a good mood, as she is having trouble with her pert maid (Amelia Farrugia, who gives the star singing performance of the evening). Majella Cullagh gives an uncharacteristically muted performance as Rosalinde, and never quite gets to grips with the fiery csds that she sings later on. Perhaps she was simply not quite on top form.

Rosalinde's husband, the Count (John Graham-Hall, who's appearance kept reminding me of Michael Heseltine) is due to start a short prison sentence for assault, but is persuaded to delay surrendering himself to the prison governor (a splendidly robust Richard Mosley-Evans) by the lure of an invitation to Prince Orlofsky's party - his friend Dr Falke (David Kempster) points out that delightful dancers from the state ballet will be present. The Prince himself (Allison Cook) reminded me of Michael Jackson - was this deliberate, I wonder? Orlofsky's party itself was a bit of a curate's egg: director Stephen Lawless provides plenty of acting opportunities for the chorus, and the singing is strong, but the set design constricts the great Viennese waltz scene. When the Count finally arrives at his local prison, there is a wonderful, updated, swipe at present-day sentencing procedures from the gaoler (Richard Van Allan).

Aided by vibrant conducting from Robin Ticciati, this production doesn't quite reach the heights of vintage champagne, but it does leave an exceedingly pleasant taste in the mouth - it's well worth the journey to Milton Keynes.

There is another performance tonight, with Cos fan Tutte tomorrow. Tickets: 0870 060 6652 or www.miltonkeynestheatre.com