Not everything Spanish is golden. After an opening delayed by six weeks, Simon Usher's production of Tirso de Molina's 1620s play still has the slightly flat feeling of a calculated anti-theatrical event.
I don't think the fault lies with the dramatist, since 12 years ago a fringe company proved the play to be perfectly viable. And Tirso takes from the Second Book of Samuel the meaty, melodramatic story of the incestuous love of Amnon, eldest son of King David, for his half-sister, Tamar. What is fascinating is seeing a biblical legend translated into a specifically Spanish world where honour and revenge are implacable moral imperatives and where fencing masters are combined with idealised rustics.
While Tirso portrays the brutal logic of revenge, he also invests the story with psychological acuity and pertinent questions, clearly brought out in James Fenton's translation. There is something horrific about the way Amnon, having raped his half-sister, turns upon her calling her a "revolting animal." And when Tamar herself cries that "a woman without her honour is like a merchant without his goods" she reminds you of the economic basis of morality. Even if Tirso doesn't subvert the Spanish code, he exposes its tragic implications as when King David finds himself torn between punishment and forgiveness.
So what goes wrong with Usher's production? The main problem is that he fails to provide a convincing social context for the action. The Swan is stripped to its back wall with only a suspended harp for decoration. Everything is played under a fierce white light. But, although these Golden Age classics may have originally been played in the afternoon without dazzling visual effects, it seems perversely pointless to try to recreate the atmosphere of the original Madrid courtyard theatres.
Within an austere production, there are good individual performances. Matt Ryan's angst-ridden Amnon brings out the links between sexual and political tyranny. Katherine Kelly's Tamar moves plausibly from girlish complicity in her half-brother's fantasies to vengeful grief. James Chalmers makes gentle fun of the narcissistic Absalom in love with his own golden locks and his father's crown.
· In rep until October 2. Box office: 0870 609 1110.
