Juan Martin composed Blood Wedding's score _320

THE shifting roles and expectations of man and woman, husband and wife, the prevalence of gang warfare and knife crime – some of mankind’s foibles are as old as time, as Lorca’s Blood Wedding illustrates all too well.

The Spanish masterpiece may be more than 70 years old, but still packs a powerful punch.

At times, Lorca’s poetry, adapted as it was by Ted Hughes, truly soars, rich and deeply evocative, as surely it was intended. At other times, the good old British stiff upper lip seems to prevent the cast from really going with the Andalucian flow.

Indeed, poor old Chris Hannon as the bridegroom is so inherently Northern, that although sweet and truly sympathetic in the role as only remaining son and jilted husband, looks and sounds as if he’d be more at home taking tea with Alan Bennett than fanning the flames of Mediterranean passion. His bride, the beautiful and promising Yasmin Bodalbhai CORR, is somewhat stiff at first but strengthens with every scene to excel by the tragic conclusion.

Sabina Franklin, as the grieving Mother, is the one to watch in every scene she is in. HIt can’t be often that the opening scene of a play is one of the strongest, or the most enjoyable. But her character’s struggles with the complexities of womanhood and motherhood are astounding work and her relationship with her son (Hannon) is charming.

Director Jen Hayes executes Blood Wedding with a vision that is clean and clear on the surface, yet full of depth underneath.

It’s a simple set for the Playhouse – a large canvas backdrop peaked into a mountain scene as it is pulled up by hooks, the hoary vines of a forest just ties of thick rope – unusually stark for this theatre’s stage, but it serves well, and the music, written and played live by flamenco guitarist Juan Martin, is perhaps more understated than one would expect, although always quite spine-tingling and exciting.