The plot of Turandot has always struck me as an intriguing blend of game show and horror film. Princess Turandot of China challenges any suitor with three riddles: if he answers them correctly, she will marry him, but if he cannot, her executioner will lop off his head. Despite the penalty, there has been no shortage of contestants for this Who Wants to Marry a Princess test and the latest is Prince Calaf.

When he answers the questions correctly, Turandot is furious, tries to get out of the contract and tells Calaf she will never love him. He then offers her a way out: he has kept his identity secret and tells her that if she can guess his name before dawn, he will submit to execution instead of marriage. Turandot orders the name to be prised out of anyone who might know it, which gives rise to the opera’s most famous aria as Calaf sings Nessun Dorma (None Shall Sleep), of the night when all must suffer. Despite Turandot’s vicious reputation, he believes that she will change when she realises that he is willing to see the slave girl Liu, whom he has known for most of his life, tortured to death for keeping his identity secret.

His plan succeeds, Turandot falls in love with him, and everyone lives happily ever after, except Liu who is dead and Calaf’s aged and blind father who now has nobody to look after him. In other words, Calaf is as despicable as Turandot and they truly deserve each other. But it makes great opera.

Serban’s production is a visual treat, with sets, costumes and choreography all superbly suited to the time, the place and the vicious theme of the story. Bloody effigies of the heads of Turandot’s victims hang from the ceiling, while the Chorus and other cast members portray her staff, eager to carry out her every command.

Three different sopranos will take the title role, starting with Anna Netrebko whose powerful and imperious voice was especially glorious on the high notes. As we saw on her previous outing as Tosca, however, her lower range is, if anything, even more resonantly impressive, but the score of Turandot gave her less opportunity to demonstrate it. Turandot only starts singing halfway through the opera, but once she had appeared, Netrebko dominated our attention.

In an intriguing piece of casting, the role of Calaf was taken by Azerbaijani tenor Yusip Eyvazov, who is Netrbko’s ex-husband. His powerful voice was a good match for hers, though his performance of the usually show-stopping Nessun Dorma seemed to be lacking in drama. The South African soprano Masabane Cecilia Rangwanasha sang beautifully in the part of Liu, who is by far the most likeable character in the opera, and the applause she received at the end confirmed that her moving portrayal was much appreciated by the audience.

Glimpses of humour in Turandot rely on the performances of Turandot’s representatives Ping, Pang and Pong, but on this occasion they were less individualistic and drew few laughs. In general, the supporting cast seemed a little unsure of themselves, perhaps because of insufficient rehearsal time. The Israeli conductor, Daniel Oren, also seemed occasionally to be concentrating too much on the orchestra, leaving them in danger of losing touch slightly with the singers. Despite the small defects, however, this was a most enjoyable and impressive evening: a four-star performance of a five-star production of a four-star opera.

• Turandot will be performed at the Royal Opera House on various dates until January 30, 2026. Box Office and details via roh.org.uk or 020 7304 4000