Scottish Opera's new production of Judith Weir's magical music theatre piece, A Night at the Chinese Opera, didn't quite gel at its opening night on Friday for numerous reasons. It's a complex, densely-packed though accessible little opera, which requires a fluidity in its direction that wasn't quite achieved at the first performance of the production: there was a stiffness in its limbs that must loosen up as the performers get into their stride.

The narrative in Weir's Chinese tale is critical. The narrative focus in the outer acts was enhanced by director Lee Blakeley's keen eye and clear control of movement and character definition, though I do know that not everybody felt that. Jean-Marc Puissant's economic set design and Jenny Cane's atmospheric lighting were consistent with Blakeley's drive for clarity.

But, astoundingly, Blakeley veered off course in act two, the extremely funny play within the play, and I think I know why: too many simultaneous layers. The actors have the narrative and all the props. The words were clear. The surtitles provided any assistance needed. Why introduce the shadow play? It was superfluous, slowed down the pace and clouded the texture of the play.

The funniest moment, and a classic Blakeley moment at that, is Marco Polo's wee flavour of Pavarotti in act three, with a delinquent spotlight and the upstaging canal builders behind the singer.

A pretty good 12-strong cast, though nobody was outstanding at the first run. They really have to do this one a lot. Three elements were top drawer: the playing by the Orchestra of Scottish Opera of a tricky score, with some tiny hiccups, was stylish, tight, accurate and true to the spirit of the music. The direction by conductor Sian Edwards was spot on in its balance and clarity.

And the third? Weir's dazzling composition, which, the more I hear it, and the better I get to know it, seems to me a masterpiece.