Although Gioacchino Rossini did not write “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” specifically for New Year’s Eve, he did compose the entire work during the 12 days of the Christmas of 1815. Notoriously lazy – legend has it that he once penned an entirely new page of music rather than pick one up that had landed on the floor – Rossini was the expert cutter of corners. He borrowed the entire plot, characters, and structure of a recent opera by Paisiello, initially attempting to preserve his own originality by titling his new work “Almaviva, or the Useless Precaution”; he also appropriated the overture note-for-note from his own recent “Elisabetta, Regina d’Inghilterra.” Further, he insouciantly constructs an entire scene by simply noting in the score “ad libitum.”

It is this “lesson” scene that is the inspiration for a gala holiday evening. The female lead is encouraged to sing music of her own choosing, preferably concluding in the language of the audience for maximum effect. Traditions within traditions have developed in this section, with many a “Last Rose of Summer” bringing down the house in the early years of the last century. Certainly this brilliant device inspired that other popular New Year’s event, as “Die Fledermaus” – playing on the same evening just down the street at Carnegie Hall – includes its own improvisatory opportunity.

The Metropolitan Opera eschewed this conventional manner of expanding the repertoire beyond the written Rossini and, tantalizingly, left their own special celebration for later. What they offered in the meantime was a high-energy male cast consisting of three of their rising stars.

Matthew Polenzani was excellent as Almaviva. His is a very sweet voice with a smooth upper register that never resorts to falsetto. More like an established countertenor, Mr. Polenzani soared in this vocal stratosphere while being likeable and athletic throughout as a character. He was the only singer this night who intelligently handled the ornamentation that was standard filigree when the original role was cast. The most beautiful singing of this production came in his two serenades accompanied by guitar.

Verdi may have written the greatest entrance in all of opera for his Gilda in “Rigoletto,” but Rossini had already penned the male equivalent for Figaro, and Dwayne Croft made the most of it. The “largo al factotum” can easily degenerate into cliche, having been performed by every baritone in the last century from Tito Gobbi to Bugs Bunny, but Croft made it sound fresh and new by employing exceptional diction and daredevil tempi. And John Relyea was superb in his brief character study as a certifiably demented Don Basilio.

The role of Rosina was originally written for a contralto, but has been appropriated by high sopranos for much of the past 100 years. It was a pleasure to hear the natural mezzo of Katarina Karneus in the part, but her performance was disappointingly stilted and leaden. Rosina must be light and nimble in her enunciations, not only to maintain the lyrical and rhythmic flow but also to put over much of the humor of the piece. Ms. Karneus never seemed to be able to get out of her own way vocally and her scenes with Thomas Hammons, pressed into service at the last minute as Doctor Bartolo, were positively tedious. The conducting of Maurizio Benini was worthy of praise for its Classical restraint, but added to the general ennui by its monochromatic uniformity.

But all of this turned out to be but a prelude to the real entertainment, as Mr. Polenzani stepped out of character just a few dozen measures before the final curtain was set to fall and became the toastmaster for a musicale of uncommon richness.

The parade of guests for the wedding of the Count and Rosina began with James Morris, who intoned majestically a medley from “Man of La Mancha.” Then Johan Botha, who tonight will be featured in the season premiere of “Turandot,” thrilled us all with a powerful and extraordinarily well-projected “Nessun dorma.” You could hear this man unmiced in the back row of the Arena di Verona.

Morris Robinson followed with a sensitive version of “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” and Ramon Vargas left much heart and soul on that stage in an emotional “Granada.” The only fly in the ointment was the “Summertime” of Andrea Gruber. People who sing Gershwin as if it were Wagner need immediate retraining in musical idiom.

Finally, clad in purple feathers and bringing both her own pianist and conductor, Dame Edna Everage performed a routine that was a hilarious tour-deforce. What does it say about this current opera season that two of its best performances thus far have been hers this evening and the stepmother of John “Lypsinka” Epperson in City Opera’s “Cinderella”?

It might be possible to object to all of these shenanigans on scholarly grounds. Much more significant is this production’s laudable attempt to capture the true spirit of the work. After all, there was nothing that Rossini cared more passionately about in his epicurean life than a good party.