Gilbert returns to his dark, claustrophobically overdecorated Victorian house, hangs a kabuki sword on the wall of his study, and, in one of the most perfectly implausible and liberating subjective flash - forwards in cinematic history, has a five - minute vision of a fully staged scene from The Mikado, sung by soloists and chorus on
a dazzlingly bright stage decorated in eye - popping pinks and greens.