A convoluted scheme to win a lifetime of true love is perfectly executed—but all for naught—in “Yeomen of the Guard; or, The Merryman and His Maid.” The theme of ironic hopelessness is the target of the Harvard-Radcliffe Gilbert & Sullivan Players’ (HRG&SP) Spring 2011 production, which opened on Thursday and runs until April 3 in the Agassiz Theatre. As the 11th of the duo’s 14 collaborations, “Yeomen” is one of librettist W. S. Gilbert and composer Arthur Sullivan’s most critically acclaimed works—but this production could have done it a bit more justice.

The plot of the opera revolves around Colonel Fairfax (Ian H. Clark ’12), an alleged alchemist who has been sentenced to die in one hour. But an adoring fan of his, Phoebe Meryll (Cassandra L. Rasmussen ’13), will have none of it. With her father (Eric Padilla ’14) and brother Leonard (Dylan J. Nagler ’14), she hatches a scheme to save his life. But when jester Jack Point (Daniel W. Erickson ’14) and his lady Elsie Maynard (Marit A. Medefind ’12) get involved, the chaos begins.

Both the vocals and hilariously over-the-top performances are impressive. While the opening number, sung by Rasmussen, gets the show off to a slow start, the casts’ performances improve soon thereafter. A number of performances stand out above the rest. With a part whose size does not adequately exhibit her gorgeous singing voice, Katherine E. Moon ’14 shines as Dame Carruthers. As two of the male leads, Clark and Padilla display vocal and dramatic savvy.

But the performances of Erickson as the theatrical jester and Benjamin T. Morris ’09 as the pathetically desperate assistant torturer deserve the highest praise. These two masters of physical and vocal comedy command the stage and do much to preserve the humor of the play—which, as implied by a note in the program from director Devon H. Dunn ’12, was not the central focus of this interpretation. “For this production I wanted to play with the bittersweet plot and emphasize the dark setting,” Dunn writes. It could be precisely this divergence from a comedy-centric approach which accounts for the production’s lackluster quality.

Moreover, blocking and choreography seem to have been given very little attention. Actors display a lack of directorial awareness when they are left with awkward moments devoid of motion at the heads and tails of songs. Furthermore, the would-be grandest of the numbers are rather drably executed, with cast members either singing in a straight line with no movement, or clumped in awkward, aesthetically unpleasant groups.

The set, designed by Matthew G. Warner ’13, does not do much to alleviate the situation. While the walls of the tower are impressively realistic in texture, their design disorients any sense of interior and exterior. The rest of the set feels similarly unmatched to the show’s dramatic requirements. A large but relatively short platform takes up the majority of the floor space, leaving little standing room; it is rarely used, and never to great avail. The platform occupies space that could otherwise have been used for more engaging choreography.

Though music director Ethan T. Addicott ’14 adeptly controls the dynamics and phrasing of the pit orchestra, its position behind a wall on the stage leaves the music sounding weak and muffled. The string section struggles to keep up with the challenging opening overture and suffers other tempo-related setbacks throughout the play. Overall, however, the score—often praised as Sullivan’s best—is relatively well-executed.

In typical HRG&SP fashion, the Janice J. He ’11-designed costumes are period-perfect and impressive. These are complemented by a range of convincingly intimidating torture devices procured by properties designer Susanna B. Wolk ’14.

Ultimately, this year’s “Yeomen” shows all the signs of great potential not used to its capacity, and a lack of directorial experience is seemingly to blame. The fine efforts of the cast allow for an enjoyable experience, but the staff’s failure to match up to their players results in a production that does not deliver the spectacle for which Gilbert and Sullivan so consistently strive.