Luxury casting, fine performances and a resourceful, bold staging by English National Opera in its short season at the Young Vic has restored Harrison Birtwistle’s chamber opera Punch and Judy to pugnacious vitality 40 years on.

The Accrington-born composer currently dominates the London stage, with the Royal Opera premiere of his major commission, The Minotaur, and the revival of his first operatic venture. At this rate, having uncompromisingly thumbed his nose at popular taste all his life, Birtwistle is in severe risk of becoming a national treasure.

To hear both pieces within days proved a fascinating reverse journey through the composer’s artistic life. First performed at Aldeburgh in 1968, turning heads then as it has done ever since, Punch and Judy dismisses any hint of nicety from the archetypal seaside tale. Instead, in Stephen Pruslin’s dark libretto, its theatre-of-cruelty bones are stripped bare: infanticide, wife-bashing, sexual deviance and the whole gamut of domestic violence take centre stage. There’s no let-up, and no interval in the 100-minute work.

The six-strong cast was impeccable. Andrew Shore, singing the title role for the first time, led proceedings with a horrifying wink and a beguiling mix of brutality and pathos. Ashley Holland’s eloquent Choregos, Gillian Keith’s goldilocks-vamp Pretty Polly and the ever exceptional Graham Clark’s reptilian lawyer all shone.

Edward Gardner, conducting the 15-strong ensemble, revealed the hidden poetic colours in the score. Solo woodwind and strings teased smoky sensuality out of brief snatches of melody whereas, in the memory, one thinks of this piece as one long, manic squeal. How wrong. Gardner’s approach proved persuasive compared with the more typical hard-driven interpretation.

London-based American theatre director Daniel Kramer, making an assured operatic debut, has drawn on commedia dell’arte traditions for his exciting, zestful and highly physical production in the round. One radical gesture was to introduce six dancers, stylishly choreographed by Quinny Sacks. If this in some ways prettified the stark ritual of the piece, it helped carry attention through the tricky central section, where the pace can falter.

Giles Cadle’s bright red and yellow end-of-pier designs, with perfect costumes, masks and make-up, look handsome, ingeniously complemented by Peter Mumford’s precise and imaginative lighting. There’s a visual coup, when Punch ensnares Choregos in his net, which alone is worth the — very modest — price of a ticket.

Until 27 April, Information: 020 7922 2922