Sean Holmes’ production of Sean O’Casey’s masterpiece was first seen at co-producer the Abbey Theatre in Dublin a couple of years ago as part of commemorations of the centenary of the 1916 Easter Rising depicted in the play (which was written a decade later). It was considered audacious because, rather than playing in period as is usual with O’Casey revivals, Holmes located his characters in 21^st-century Dublin. The inhabitants of O’Casey’s tenement building wear track pants or jeans, and when the rebellion is at its height their haul of loot from shops includes a washing machine, games consoles and – if my eyes didn’t deceive me – a multipack of Monster Munch. Jon Bausor’s set design consists principally of a scaffolding tower which serves as the building’s stairwell, before slowly collapsing for the harrowing final act.

Much of this approach pays off handsomely. Most of the dialogue sounds more naturally conversational in contemporary northside Dublinese (I was much less irritated by O’Casey’s facile habit of giving his characters repetitive verbal tics), but I couldn’t help feeling unhelpfully jarred when they so often turned to deliver assorted aperçus straight out to the audience. The staging of the second act in a nearby pub is excellent, with Holmes orchestrating nearly-punch-up after nearly-punch-up while a nationalist rally goes on outside; however, relegating rebel icon Padraig Pearse’s impassioned, sometimes shocking words to snatches heard on the bar’s TV set attenuates the contrast.

As usual, however, O’Casey’s brilliant undercutting of his working-class satire in the final act is breathtaking. Kate Stanley Brennan as Nora Clitheroe (one of a handful of roles not recast since the Abbey run) gives a shattering rendition of one of the greatest female mad scenes in theatre. The menfolk embody the hollowness of their posturing, even though an undercast, gabbling English soldier gives them little to act against. This is where comedy and tragedy, politics and community, merge in a great wash of humanity which is somehow both bleak and affirmative. Patchy though its success may be – and perhaps partly due simply to being seen now in an English rather than an Irish milieu – Holmes has helmed a fine, thoughtful reinvention which never loses sight of what’s being reinvented.

Written for the Financial Times.