Breathtaking, brash and bonkers — An utterly British Olympic opening ceremony

Brilliant, breathtaking, bonkers and utterly British. Danny Boyle captured the spirit, history, humour and patriotism of an expectant nation last night as he pulled off an Olympic opening ceremony like no other.

From a bucolic vision of our green and pleasant land to a medley of Britpop's greatest hits, Boyle's tour de force was a love letter to his homeland that left 65,000 spectators choking with pride.

To cap it all, London 2012 reached stratospheric heights as five Olympic rings were lifted by giant balloons from the stadium into space. Pity the person who has to try to better this in Rio de Janeiro in 2016. Where Beijing 2008 had precision, uniformity and control, London 2012 had James Bond, 600 NHS nurses and 40 live sheep.

Boyle's pounds 27?million creation crackled with wit; the sight of a stadium full of people wearing 3D glasses and head-banging in time to the Sex Pistols' Pretty Vacant was certainly not one the organisers saw coming when London was given the Games seven years ago, but it was gloriously madcap nonetheless.

Following entertainment that included a Red Arrows fly-past, an audience of up to a billion tuned in for what promised to be the greatest show on earth.

The Isles of Wonder

Boyle's Isles of Wonder theme began with a film of ships approaching the coast, played to the strains of Elgar's Nimrod, that grabbed the audience by the heart and refused to let go. Next came a dazzling journey down the Thames from its source in Kemble, Glos, to the East End, taking in Ratty and Mole, village cricket, rowers at Henley and the London Underground, backed by pulsating British music, from the Clash's London Calling to the Sex Pistols and the theme from EastEnders.

As the countdown neared its end, a set of Olympic rings attached to four balloons were released from the top of the stadium, with a camera attached, in the hope that they would beam back pictures from the stratosphere.

When the clock reached zero, man of the moment Bradley Wiggins, Britain's Tour de France hero, rang Europe's largest tuned bell, forged for the Games in Whitechapel. Not bad for starters.

A green and pleasant land

Boyle's decision to use live animals in a recreation of rural Britain in the early 19th century had raised eyebrows, but on the night the 40 sheep, three cows, nine geese, two goats, 10 chickens, 10 ducks and 12 horses were as well-drilled as any of the human performers.

Built around a cottage with smoking chimneys, a vegetable patch and beehives, this was an unashamedly romantic view of country life, complete with cricket, a working water wheel, maypole dancers and women picking barley and kneading bread.

This, said Boyle, was the Britain of Wind in the Willows and Winnie the Pooh, where sheep grazed real grass watched by a sheepdog and a horse-drawn omnibus circled.

Opposite the giant bell was a Glastonbury-style tor, criss-crossed with pathways and with an English oak tree on its summit. Four "clouds" were walked around by their strings, and even brought that essential element of any British outdoor event, a passing shower.

Choirboys sang the "national anthem" of each of our four countries: Jerusalem, sung from the stadium, Londonderry Air, sung on the Giant's Causeway, Cwm Rhondda, from Rhossili Beach and Flower of Scotland from Edinburgh Castle. But things were about to change, as Kenneth Branagh appeared as Isambard Kingdom Brunel, reciting Caliban's speech from The Tempest: "Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises."

Pandemonium

John Milton's capital city of Hell in Paradise Lost was invoked as the peace of the countryside was shattered by 965 drummers led by the deaf drummer Dame Evelyn Glennie, as the industrial revolution ripped up the landscape.

The 7,346 sq m of grass was stripped away to reveal the streets of London and the River Thames. With 50 Brunels looking on, six smoking chimneys rose up, and the oak was ripped from its firmament. Drawing from Boyle's working-class Lancashire upbringing, six giant looms thrashed, powering Victorian Britain's prosperity. All around the stadium, the nation's identity was forged, from Grimethorpe Colliery Band to Chelsea pensioners, pearly kings and queens and an army of Beatles, complete with floating yellow submarines.

Boyle's Labour leanings surfaced as he celebrated the right to protest, with appearances from Helen and Laura Pankhurst, from the great Suffragette's family, and Jarrow Marchers, including Lizi Gray, one of their descendants.

Attention then switched suddenly to a war memorial of the "Accrington Pals" battalion, wiped out in the Somme, and soldiers standing in a poppy field in the stadium. The actors and spectators stood silently to honour sacrifices made in times of war to protect our freedom.

Then came perhaps the most spectacular moment, as workers in a furnace produced a crucible of "molten metal", poured down a channel and into a mould to forge an Olympic ring. From the roof came four more rings to join it, which united in mid-air to form the Olympic rings which crackled and showered sparks onto the stage below.

The name's Bond

The Queen has never made an entrance like this. In a five-minute film made in secrecy in March, Daniel Craig's James Bond was shown in a sequence that began with him at Buckingham Palace.

The Queen could then make her entrance, taking her place in the Royal Box alongside the Duke of Edinburgh, the Prince of Wales, Duchess of Cornwall, Prince Harry and the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.

Members of the Army, Royal Navy and Royal Air Force carried the Union flag to the flagpole part-way up the grassy tor and raise it, where it will stay until the closing ceremony on August 12.

The honour of singing the National Anthem was given to the Koas Signing Choir of deaf and hearing children.

nightmares away

To a performance of his album Tubular Bells by Mike Oldfield, 600 NHS nurses and patients from London's Great Ormond Street Hospital for children took over the arena. Boyle used his platform to give David Cameron a clear message: Hands Off Our NHS.

The result was splendidly surreal. As children bounced on 320 beds in their pyjamas, the nurses manoeuvred them to make the Great Ormond Street logo and to spell out NHS.

Doctors and nurses partied with the children, before bedtime approached, and a boy read Peter Pan by torchlight under the covers, its words spoken by Harry Potter author JK Rowling.

But his sleep was troubled: Captain Hook, the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Cruella de Vil and Harry Potter's nemesis, Lord Voldemort, all invaded the stadium. Would evil win out? Not when Mary Poppins is about. Children squealed as dozens of Poppinses flew down to shoo away the nightmares with illuminated brollies.

Bean's chariots of fire

In a tribute to British cinema, the London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Sir Simon Rattle, played the theme to Chariots of Fire as clips of A Matter of Life and Death, Kes, Gregory's Girl, Four Weddings and a Funeral and Mr Bean's Holiday were shown. Then Mr Bean himself, Rowan Atkinson, appeared in the orchestra. In a send-up of Chariots, he imagined himself running on a beach with the actor who played Eric Liddell, in a sequence filmed at St Andrew's.

Frankie and June

Having started in the pre-industrial age, the show entered the internet age.

Previews to journalists showed housewife Carly Enstone driving into the stadium in her Mini, grabbing her keys and groceries and letting herself into her house in time to listen the The Archers.

Quite what viewers in Shanghai or Vladivostok made of it is anyone's guess, but they were about to witness a madcap mash-up of Britain's favourite music, television shows and films.

It began with the family gorging on telly, including Blackadder, Monty Python and Harry Hill. For teenage sisters Frankie and June, played by Henrique Costa, 19, and Jasmine Breinburg, 18, it was time for a night out.

A young man who glimpsed June on the Tube picked up her lost mobile phone, and love triumphed after he chased her on a musical journey through nightclubs of the eras. The Beatles, the Rolling Stones and the Kinks filled the stadium, and when David Bowie's Starman began, spacemen with neon jet-packs soared into the air.

Spectators had 3D glasses for part of the projection show, and volunteers conducted them in synchronised head-banging to The Sex Pistols' Pretty Vacant.

Audience participation has surely never been quite so anarchic.

As the girls partied, they invited their friends back home using social media, given to the world via Sir Tim Berners-Lee's invention of the world wide web.

Then a step-change with the Memorial Wall: ticket-holders had sent in pictures of loved ones who are no longer with us, which were displayed on screen as Emeli Sande sang Abide With Me and 50 dancers dramatised the struggle between life and death.

Enter the Athletes

Led by Greece, the birthplace of the Games, the parade of 204 nations was led by a placard bearer wearing a dress made of pictures of Londoners. A helicopter dropped seven billion pieces of paper, and music including the Bee Gees' Stayin Alive was played faster than normal to encourage the athletes to walk a little quicker.

Team GB, led by flag-bearer Sir Chris Hoy, featured 241 of the 542 due to compete, with some still at training camps. It was followed by a parade of 75 "dove bikes" to represent the doves released at ancient Games and to celebrate Team GB's cycling success.

Let the Games Begin

The ceremony finished with the Queen officially declaring the Games open, and the cauldron being lit by the final torchbearers. Their identity, and the design of the cauldron, remained a secret even as the ceremony was under way. They would be followed by a fireworks display and a performance by Sir Paul McCartney, singing a new song, The End, and Hey Jude.

Beat that, Brazil.