In a world where Botticellian references are fetishized and primary colors are scoffed at, “Patience” may be required. Any Gilbert and Sullivan experience can be slightly overwhelming, but the Harvard-Radcliffe Gilbert and Sullivan Players succeed in making Victorian operetta engaging and accessible for a twenty-first century audience. “Patience, or Bunthorne’s Bride,” which ran at the Agassiz Theatre April 3-12, was an ambitious project, but the Players, under director David S. Jewett ’08, engaged the audience from the moment the conductor invited them to rise and join him in singing “God Save the Queen.”

The Agassiz provided intimacy without sacrificing any of the elegance of the production, a late Victorian spoof on the aesthetic movement. The show opens with 20 maidens lamenting their unrequited love for the “fleshly” poet of the town, the sullen Reginald Bunthorne (Roy A. Kimmey III ’09). Modeled after Oscar Wilde, Reginald’s “weird fancy” had somehow alighted on Patience (Annie Levine ’08), the village milk-maid. But Patience, dressed simply and unadorned, claims that she “won’t go to bed until I’m head over heels in love.” Her wishes are immediately answered with the arrival of the second poet, the “idyllic” Archibald Grosvenor (Matthew I. Bohrer ’10) who calls himself a “trustee of beauty.” When the maidens encounter this new embodiment of perfection, the tempo accelerates and some excellently choreographed chaos erupts on stage.

Bohrer’s Archibald was brilliant in his vanity, stealing the attention of the audience as well as the rapturous maidens. His sickly counterpart, the “fleshly” Reginald, was well cast to satirize Oscar Wilde. Yet Kimmey’s permanent grimace was distracting, as were the mock Grecian poses and the excessive facial expressions of the actors. The overacting made the satire feel forced and slightly undercut the humor of the show.

At times, it seemed that the orchestra, conducted by Yuga J. Cohler ’11, was the only consistently earnest element in the entire play. Its placement in front of the stage provided an excellent view of the bobbing heads of the clarinets and the poise of the cellists, immediately immersing the audience into the comic opera.

The rare sincere moments in acting were the most spectacular. The dragoons offered a relieving element of honesty, admitting outright that they hated the effusive Romanticism and that their ultimate concern was the pursuit of their ex-fiancés.

Led by a confident Colonel Calverley (Eliot Shimer ’11), the group’s robust stature and well-timed side-commentary provided a necessary comedic counterpoint to Bunthorne’s effeminacy. Patience’s’ expressive solo “Love is a Plaintiff Song,” perfectly paired with the articulate woodwinds, was exquisite. But perhaps the oppressive feeling of the caricatures is inherent in any Gilbert and Sullivan production and is itself testament to the Players’ historical accuracy.

“Patience” was wildly popular when it premiered at the Opera Comique in London in 1881, and judging from the audience’s engagement during the entire three-hour production, the Players continue to credit the tradition. “Patience” was spectacular, still entertaining more than a century after its premier. The well-played caricatures of the rapturous maidens and the poets are brilliantly illuminated by the orchestra and give tribute to this timeless satire of pretentiousness.