What does it feel like to fall in love? There are moments in James Kerr's production - set in a stormy, damp Illyria - that capture the lurch of the stomach and the tingle down the spine so intently and so violently that you know exactly. It is the next best thing to falling in love yourself.
In Olivia's heart it is always raining, but when she meets Viola, disguised as a boy, it is as if the sun has come out in some secret part of her. This stiff, stern matron is suddenly stricken with an expansive, gesticular madness. It is like a gawky black lamb gambolling: ridiculous and touching.
There are plenty of other melting moments in an enjoyable evening. It sometimes lacks comic edge and doesn't quite capture the yearning loss felt by those, particularly Malvolio, who have made complete fools of themselves over love, but it remains an artful piece of storytelling.
Kerr and designer Colin Falconer give it a clean and thoroughly modern feel. The bleach-boarded stage stays bare almost throughout, and curtains telescope up and down at the back to reveal thunderstruck skies or patches of blue horizon. At the end the stars come out and twinkle over the happy lovers. It is effective, even if the mechanics are sometimes distracting.
But Kerr's great strength is to be able to tell a story and, in the process, create stage pictures that are beautifully simple and often simply beautiful. It reminded me of the early work of Declan Donnellan and Cheek by Jowl in both its clarity and aesthetic.
In the early scenes, the attempt to create an easy, conversational style sometimes leads to gabbling, and there is a loss of energy in the second half. The best scenes almost always involve Claire Price's wonderful Olivia, a big-boned beauty who rejects Orsino's advances only to be caught off guard by love.
The first scene between Olivia and the disguised Viola is terrific not just for its giddy quality but also for the way it plays upon gender and the idea that perhaps what Olivia most likes about this man is that he is so like a woman.
There is some under-casting, but Priyanga Elan's Viola grows in confidence and she has the ability to really hold an audience when she is perfectly still. Stephen Beresford makes the most of Sir Andrew Aguecheek, turning him into a chinless wonder, and when Ian Gelder's much misused Malvolio vows that he will have revenge it is as if an icy chill has gripped Illyria and crept into the lovers' hearts.
Until February 17. Box office: 0151-709 4776.
