War and Peace, meet Gilbert and Sullivan. Whatever may be happening elsewhere in the Napoleonic Wars, it’s light-opera time in the Tyrolean Alps. The orphaned Marie—found years before as a baby on a battlefield, parentage unknown—is living the life of Riley as the spunky “daughter” of a regiment of French light infantry, whose troops collectively adopted her at birth. Offstage, the Tyrolean lad Tonio—technically an enemy—has recently prevented Marie from falling off a cliff, with predictable results. But to claim her hand, he must join her home regiment. And so he does, celebrating in the aria “Ah, mes amis,” with its 21-gun-salute of nine high C’s. That’s when Marie’s illegitimate but aristocratic origins come to light, fueling a sitcom second act filled with lots more beautiful music. Gaetano Donizetti’s French bonbon, first presented at the Opéra-Comique in 1840, now migrates to Versailles, dressed by Christian Lacroix, past master of museum-quality theatrical finery that moves. Gwendoline Blondeel and Patrick Kabongo are the lovers, killer roles that have to come off like child’s play. Old-timers cherish their memories of Joan Sutherland and Luciano Pavarotti, or Kathleen Battle and Pavarotti, but now it’s another generation’s turn. —Matthew Gurewitsch