The archetypal German Romantic opera, where folkish charm collides with sinister supernatural forces, has done well on CD. In the theatre the work’s creaky dramaturgy has long made it ripe for a deconstructing Konzept by directors evidently embarrassed by the libretto’s naivety. On DVD the productions by Axel Köhler (C Major, 1/16) and Achim Freyer (NVC) give Der Freischütz a comic-ironic makeover, with Freyer’s send-up by far the more theatrically entertaining. In Christian Räth’s 2018 Vienna Staatsoper staging the young forester Max becomes a composer plagued by writer’s block as he grapples with his opera, and compelled to confront the dark sources of his inspiration embodied by the malign Caspar and the ‘Black Huntsman’ (aka the Devil) Samiel.

While the concept might, just, be plausible, its realisation is confused, sometimes risible. Caspar sings his aria of imagined triumph ‘Schweig, schweig’ at the piano, surrounded by giant birds of prey in wedding dresses. The erotic attraction between a mannishly dressed Aennchen and Agathe-as-grande dame evokes the opening of Der Rosenkavalier: vaguely amusing, perhaps, but with no relevance to either libretto or music. The Wolf’s Glen, a metaphor for the labyrinthine unconscious, is as unspooky as it gets: a dark corridor flanked by window frames, above which Samiel appears suspended upside down from the ceiling. The magic bullets become pages of Max’s opera. Caspar – Max’s composer alter ego – feverishly plays a piano that bursts into flames before an inferno engulfs the stage. It’s a challenge, of course, to create a genuine frisson in the Wolf’s Glen scene today. But on film, at least, Räth’s ironic parody of Grand Guignol is both corny and irritating.

Things fare better musically. From the brooding opening of the Overture, Tomáš Netopil paces the score finely and provides considerate, nuanced support to the voices. The Staatsoper Orchestra – the Vienna Philharmonic by other means – do predictable justice to the extreme colours in Weber’s orchestral palette, not least the eerie, garish sonorities of the Wolf’s Glen. The darkly mellow Viennese horns, crucial players in this opera, live up to expectations. It is hardly the singers’ fault that the characters appear one-dimensional. Andreas Schager, a tormented, whey faced Max, tends to deploy his penetrating Wagnerian tenor at an unremitting forte. He never stints on high notes. The pick of the cast, vocally, is soprano Camilla Nylund, who brings ample, shining tone and a finely sustained line to Agathe’s two solos (she reads ‘Leise, leise’ from Max’s score). Daniela Fally, with her tart, soubrettish tone, is a sparky Aennchen, camp mockery her default mode, while Alan Held, sporting a red wig and Dracula make-up, lours and rants with impressive sonority as a pantomime-villain Caspar.

Subordinate parts, including Albert Dohmen’s darkly sonorous Hermit, descending on a giant chandelier (how else?), and Adrian Eröd’s supercilious, incisively sung Prince Ottokar, are well taken, and the Vienna Opera Chorus relish their assorted roles. There is certainly some fine singing and playing here. You may be more convinced by Räth’s concept than I was. Austrian reviews I have seen suggest that it may have worked better in the theatre. Suffice to say that on the small screen, often dimly lit, its clichés and absurdities fall flat.