The idea that Peter Grimes might be a simple tale of Suffolk fisherfolk never really held water. In recent decades, the view that Britten, as a closeted homosexual, was expressing his own sense of social exclusion through the outcast Grimes has achieved something of a consensus.

David Alden, in his dark, challenging new production (designed by Paul Steinberg), offers an intriguing but compelling slant on that perception. While Grimes, Ellen Orford and the apprentice are treated conventionally, the Borough folk become a gallery of grotesques.

Ned Keene the apothecary is a pill-popping spiv. Auntie is a mannish Radclyffe Hall figure, limping ominously around with a cane — her pub is transformed into a Parisian salon — and her two “nieces” are abused schoolgirls who re-enact their trauma with dolls and bizarre choreography.

With Captain Balstrode as a one-armed seaman and Auntie virtually the mythical one-legged lesbian, it’s quite a collection. But Alden’s purpose is serious. He transfers any notion of deviancy from the beleaguered fisherman to the community, their sexual shenanigans reaching an anarchic climax when the Moot Hall merry-making descends into
cabaret-style debauchery. Are their antics unfulfilled fantasies, or is this how Grimes sees them?

The audience may perhaps feel cheated of its cathartic rage against small-minded Borough bigotry (an easy target) but this mob’s accusatory cries of “Peter Grimes!”, roared from front stage, churn the stomach none the less.

These malcontents have developed a repertoire of crazy hand gestures evoking mechanised labour and robotic, dehumanised alienation. Truly a broken society.

Stuart Skelton’s Grimes, poetic and distrait, with outbursts of belligerence, is impressively delivered. Amanda Roocroft’s finely sung Ellen is equally sympathetic. Rebecca de Pont Davies prowls the stage creepily as Auntie. Does she sanction the abusive exploitation of the two “nieces” (the excellent Gillian Ramm and Mairead Buicke), by the way? If so, it is difficult to see her in a sympathetic light.

Gerald Finley as Captain Balstrode makes up in firmness and warmth of tone for what he lacks in limbs. Matthew Best’s superbly resonant Swallow, Leigh Melrose’s splendidly slimy Ned Keene and Darren Jeffery’s obdurate Hobson also shine.
Edward Gardner’s taut grip in the opening stages finally erupted in an electrifying storm, yet elsewhere his expressive shaping of phrases were a continual delight.
Until 30 May (0871 911 0200, www.eno.org)