This Romeo and Juliet possesses all the customary imagination and verve of director Rupert Goold. Alive to the shades and textures of the play, it’s an alluring interpretation — and arrestingly stylised.

Verona is made to resemble a hive of decadence, in which Sam Troughton’s Romeo, with his headphones and studenty clothes, seems out of place. Others sport extravagant outfits that hint at the dark excess of fetish parties. Only Mariah Gale’s Juliet, in Converse All Stars and whirling a sort of glowstick, appears to be on Romeo’s level.

Their passion blooms. It begins in the thick of a masked party — thrillingly staged — and soon develops a convincing sensuality. Although Troughton and Gale aren’t much like teenagers, they transmit the oozy enthusiasm of adolescent desire. 

The ecstasy of their connection is palpable. Troughton may wear a permanent look of amazement but he’s satisfyingly physical, dancing a celebratory jig when he scores with Juliet and scooting around the stage on a bike. He’s credible, too, as an exponent of high-flown rhetoric — Hamlet with fewer hang-ups.
Meanwhile, Gale is a worldly Juliet. Her crystalline diction makes her an ideal Shakespearean performer, and her range of expression is wide.

Goold brings great fluency to proceedings. Yet there’s also a relish of the lewder elements in the text, best embodied by Jonjo O’Neill’s street-smart, exuberantly salacious Mercutio.

When this divisive figure dies gruesomely, the tone shifts. Verona’s opulence recedes. The star-crossed lovers are framed in an arch of warm orange light. This is the summer of their brief love. 

Next we move in a grungier direction; Juliet wears Romeo’s hoodie and, as fate’s inexorable mechanism breaks their dreams, the action becomes spare and concentrated.

Not everything in Goold’s production succeeds. The final phase of the play is somewhat underpowered. At the denouement the pompous costumes disappear and everyone is dressed as though just off to a car boot sale. This feels wrong. 

Among the senior characters there’s little of the impotence of age — which is needed to counterpoint the fire of youth — and the impression of Verona as a place of stern institutions is limited. Yet there are some gorgeous moments and canny elucidations. Goold’s sense of theatre is strong, and the result is a Romeo and Juliet that positively bristles with invention and bold ideas. 
Until 27 August. Information: 0844 800 1110.