THE NEW YORK TIMES

Before the bisexual threesome, the kick line of cross-dressed nuns, the near-naked game of Twister, and the yogurt feast, LoftOpera’s production of Rossini’s riotous “Le Comte Ory” begins with a relative whisper.

Rossini’s overture is the work of a composer with a sly poker face. Restrained and short, it ends with quietly, with some demure plucks in the strings. It’s a sign of this young company’s skill that its orchestra, led on this occasion by Sean Kelly, is as persuasive in the score’s subtle moments as in its slapstick ones.

That slapstick is hardly stunted. The production at the packed-to-the-gills Muse warehouse in Bushwick, Brooklyn, makes much hilarity, for one thing, of men scrambling for pink nun habits.

But the polish and panache of the staging, directed by John de los Santos, keep the farce from ever seeming amateurish. It’s a perfect union of New York’s most raucous and delightful opera company with one of the most raucous and delightful works in the repertory, a salacious at libidos run amok in the home front during the Crusades.

If the city’s audiences know “Comte Ory” it’s likely from a Metropolitan Opera production that opened in 2011. The high spirits in that Bartlett Sher staging often seemed forced, but in Bushwick the simplicity and immediacy of the presentation (seen last Saturday) make the jokes and gags land without thudding.

This modern-dress vision of the work could hardly be pared down further: some creaky platforms, more or less, a bench; and, for the sensationally sensual second-act trio, a four-poster bed. But for all the efficient bareness of the setting, the show has a brightly colored, everything-but-the-kitchen-sink exuberance. Before the overture, aerialists dressed in yet more nun habits twirl high above the audience, a reminder that this space spends much of its time as a circus school.

But never does it seem as if the company is mugging; the director and performers have created characters, not clowns. The climactic three-way, one of Rossini’s most inspired, shape-shifting ensembles, with lines tumbling over one another like lovers-throws off genuine sparks. This is less because everyone’s stripped down to underwear, than because the irresistible music is executed with such stylistic confidence.