Even fans of Matthew Bourne, and I have long been one of those, will wince at The Car Man.

As you would expect from the man who gave us an all-male swan Swan Lake, it is a clever re-imagining of Bizet's femme fatale, only with the Spanish beauty replaced by a man whose sexual allure is the undoing of not only a bored housewife, but also her husband, her younger sister, and the sister's timid boyfriend.

Small-town America, and the archetypal garage-diner to which Bourne time-travels the action, also come off badly.

Despite Bourne's radical take on Swan Lake, he dealt with its dark themes with a light touch, and there was a magic and mystery to his re-imaginings of other classics, including Nutcracker, Cinderella and La Sylphide ("Highland Fling").

Car Man has none of this. It depicts lust and loathing in lurid detail, with trauma and angst piled on jealousy, greed and spite. You'd expect all that in Carmen, but Car Man is one shag after the next.

There are also stage blood, ghostly sightings, and drunken recriminations, and that's not counting the fist fights, nudity and massed orgies.

Nothing wrong with that in ones or twos. All together they lose meaning, and the violent finale disappears when all before it is overwrought.

Another drawback are the character clichés: the bored housewife, her burping, farting, bullying husband, and her mind-bogglingly feeble sister who still loves her boyfriend even though he prefers boys to girls.

Come off it, you want to yell, stop sympathising with him and start sympathising with yourself.

Made back in 2000, this Car Man has nifty designs by Lez Brotherston, a tight score based on the Bizet, and some able performances from the cast.

The drama bowls along at a fair old lick, but the emotional histrionics leaves you numb.

• Until 5 August. Information 0844 412 4300, www.sadlerswells.com.