It may be the flashiest, gaudiest, busiest opera production in the history of opera productions. It has all the bells and whistles, and then some more bells and whistles. I didn’t see a kitchen sink — but maybe I missed it amid all the other distractions and attractions.

I’m talking about Philipp Stölzl’s production of Berlioz’s “Benvenuto Cellini,” now playing at the Salzburg Festival. Opinion is sharply divided over this show. But at least we have a production worth arguing about.

It has planes, trains, and automobiles. Cellini makes his entrance on a chopper. Tabloid headlines are projected. We see fireworks, we see rainbow wigs, we see grotesques. We see impassioned jugglers in skeleton suits; we see high-heeled hookers carrying big red balloons. There is an enormous orange fish with marquee lights for teeth. Even for an opera that includes Carnival, this is rather a lot.

The household servants are robots — as in “The Jetsons.” Clement VII and his entourage are Vegas-style swingers (giving high fives). And there are so many explosions onstage, an operagoer can hardly sleep.

Mr. Stölzl’s “Cellini” is not so much an opera production, traditionally understood, as a Broadway spectacular. The producers at Radio City Music Hall would blush. And you remember the movie “Moulin Rouge!” (2001), starring Nicole Kidman? This production looks a little like that. Anyway, I will have more to say about this in a moment.

Berlioz wrote his opera about Mr. Benvenuto Cellini — a Renaissance-era Renaissance man — in 1838. And the conductor for this Salzburg run is another Renaissance man, of sorts: Valery Gergiev. In a public interview two weeks ago, I asked him his view of “Cellini”: “Is it a great opera, a good opera, an okay opera?” He answered with complete justice and integrity: “It is an interesting opera, an unusual opera, an imaginative opera.” Besides which, Berlioz laid the foundation for much music to come, notably Wagner.

On Wednesday night, Mr. Gergiev led a rousing performance of “Cellini,” beginning with the overture (much loved). Charged up by Mr. Gergiev, the Vienna Philharmonic played it colorfully, tightly, and happily. Indeed, this was about as pleasing a “Cellini” overture as you’ll ever hear. And the orchestra played with similar energy and flair all through the opera. This was the VPO with its hair down, though its standards were high. And Mr. Gergiev at times resembled an expert circus master.

The cast was not necessarily one of big names — we had a cancellation, before the festival began, and, indeed, this has been the Summer of Cancellations. Rolando Villazón canceled, Neil Shicoff canceled, and Anna Netrebko canceled. This last cancellation was particularly controversial. In fact, some Salzburg wags have dubbed the starry Russian soprano “Anna Nyet-trebko.”

Mr. Shicoff, a veteran American tenor, was supposed to sing the title role of “Cellini,” but he pulled out after being denied the top administrative job at the Vienna State Opera. He seemed poised to get that job but, somehow, lost out. In a letter to the Salzburg Festival, Mr. Shicoff said, “I need a break, to find some rest, sort out my life and priorities, distance myself from intrigues and disappointments, and reclaim my innermost being … “

In his place, as Cellini, was the German tenor Burkhard Fritz. He rose to the occasion, although he sometimes seemed underpowered. In general, Mr. Fritz’s singing was lovely, easy, and lyrical. He occasionally sounded as much like Tamino (in Mozart’s “Magic Flute”) as Cellini.

His Teresa was Maija Kovalevska, the Latvian soprano, part of the Baltic explosion in opera. Metropolitan Opera attendees got a taste of her at the end of last season, in Gluck’s “Orfeo.” On Wednesday night, she sang brightly and beautifully, and her instrument can really carry. It may not be large, inherently, but it “plays” large, even in the biggest houses. Plus, Ms. Kovalevska is pretty as a picture, which never hurts in opera, as in life.

Singing sensationally well was Kate Aldrich, the mezzo-soprano from Maine. She was Cellini’s sidekick Ascanio, although she was not quite human — not in this production. Mr. Stölzl’s Ascanio is a robot, or a space alien, or something. He/she — Ascanio is normally a trouser role – looks something like C-3PO. In any case, Ms. Aldrich sang duskily, surely, and excitingly.

A French baritone, Laurent Naouri, was Fieramosca, and he sang satisfactorily. He was also a very good sport — Fieramosca is put through every indignity. A young Czech bass-baritone named Adam Plachetka sang richly as Pompeo. An English bass, Brindley Sherratt, sounded fine as Balducci, when we could hear him — he was frustratingly muted. And, by the way, he looked like Phil Silvers, strutting and sputtering around in horn-rimmed glasses.

The Russian bass Mikhail Petrenko made a suitable Clement VII (vocally — what Mr. Stölzl does to this character is another question). And the Vienna State Opera Chorus sang both elegantly and lustily, a nice and necessary achievement.

I have said that opinion is divided over Mr. Stölzl’s production. Some left at intermission, fed up with the super-showy nature of this show, disgusted at the upstaging, so to speak, of Berlioz. I must say: I rather liked this production; I’m glad I saw it.

But I should admit to grading on a bit of a curve: Mr. Stölzl’s production has no sexual depravity (that I noticed), no gratuitous violence, no political agenda. Unlike so many other productions, it isn’t ugly or mean. In fact, it is full of fun. So I guess I say … hurrah.