Three caravans in a grim wasteland, three generations of pram-face witches hissing oaths out of flip-up windows, Glyndebourne's new Macbeth establishes its bold credentials within minutes. They are not pretty. This is a world of D-I-Y Scots baronial, with flatpack shed and a dismal anarchy of offthepeg tartan. Lady Macbeth dons rubber gloves in a dungeon laundrette and Banquo's ghost oozes, all too fleshily, from a cardboard box.

Rumours of Richard Jones's bloodspattered staging, designed by Ultz, had oozed similarly from closed rehearsal rooms for months, adding high anxiety to Glyndebourne's usual new season buzz. How would the patrons stomach it? The actuality, as so often with this director, proved intelligent and searing rather than shocking. It may not be vintage Jones quite yet, slightly muted by first-night nerves among the singers, but this is a startling, imaginative evening and, under the incisive baton of Vladimir Jurowski, musically invigorating. The London Philharmonic, complete with cimbasso, Verdi's odd sort of low trombone, played with edge and intensity. A large, well-choreographed chorus excelled.

Jones and Jurowski have used the 1865 revision, which, with added ballet and choruses, is dramatically looser than the familiar early version. Their approach, emphasising public power rather than private psychodrama, draws on a range of contemporary imagery. Lady Macbeth, a Hillary Clinton lookalikeis clever and calculating, fairly sane until her sleepwalking scene.

Banquo (Stanislav Shvets) strangely resembles Gordon Brown. Macduff 's slaughtered children, their bodies wheeled on in white shrouds, reminds us of any terrorist atrocity. As the angry, grieving father, Peter Auty was superb.

In the title role Polish baritone Andrzej Dobber, golden-toned once he relaxed, plays Macbeth as a fretful, troubled figure, lost in a fog of catastrophe. Sylvie Valayre's Lady Macbeth, despite coloratura brilliance, suffered intonation problems, but the warm reception she received for her house debut will doubtless build confidence.

Some of Ultz's visual tics, such as the yellow smiley face or the 666 mark of the beast from the Book of Revelation, felt superfluous. Yet this Macbeth is a robust affair and if some of the audience clearly hated it, the cheers were vigorous and wholehearted in support. To go to Glyndebourne assuming familiarity is to head to the wrong place. It was here, after all, that Macbeth was given its UK professional premiere seven decades ago. The Sussex festival still lives dangerously.

• Festival until 26 August (www.glyndebourne.com).