Given the intimacy of its outer acts, Puccini's tale of love and death among impoverished artists ought not to work in such a vast space as the Albert Hall. But much of Francesca Zambello's in-the-round arena production does succeed, with the spareness of Peter J Davison's freezing garret brilliantly lit by Andrew Bridge and the irresponsible laddishness of the four flatmates is nicely suggested.

Victor Ryan Robertson's Rodolfo offers an appealing, well-defined tenor with plenty of energy, while he's neatly aided and abetted by Mark Stone's confidently cussed Marcello. Richard Burkhard's bouncy Schaunard and Dean Robinson's saturnine Colline are perhaps a secret gay couple.

But it's in the cafe scene that Zambello's eye for detail and the potential of the venue gel into something remarkable. With its skating waiters, decidedly mixed couples, sailors, tarts, hawkers, rampaging kids, a strongman and a military band thrown in, it's the perfect match for the riot of Parisian street life contained in Puccini's music, and hugely enjoyable.

Crowning its verve and gaiety is the bold and brassy Musetta of Majella Cullagh; the ultimate good-time gal who has the men in the chorus swooning credibly at her feet.

Dressed in Sue Willmington's stylish 1940s costume, she's like a Rita Hayworth of the boulevards, while Henry Waddington's rouged and bewigged Alcindoro plays up to her outrageously.

Anne Sophie Duprels' Mimi doesn't match this level of engagement. Her portrayal of the frail working-class girl fails to deliver the luminous, almost spiritual, inner strength that is the other side of that character. Puccini still gets you in the end because his death scenes are unsurpassed, but Mimi's demise isn't the heart-piercing moment it should be.

· Until March 11. Box office: 020-7838 3100