The Midnight Bell (touring) ★★★★

There is something quite liberating about a piece of theatre which is designed and written as a series of vignettes. Matthew Bourne’s The Midnight Bell, set in a 1930s Soho bar, highlights just the moments when the characters are in and around its smoky, nicotine-stained walls. Leaving the rest of their experiences to the imagination serves, in fact, to heighten the drama – not diminish it.

The set is stunning – a series of windows and a phone box are suspended from above the stage, and they transform the space into backstreets, bars, nightclubs and the central pub, The Midnight Bell. Within this quite claustrophobic space all of life, in its many guises, is played out – in particular its relationships. Paule Constable’s use of chiaroscuro in her lighting design creates such an atmosphere that it is a visceral part of the experience. Few scenes were brightly lit, and yet it enables the dark spaces to inhabit the deeper recesses of your mind.

Each of the characters is clearly defined, and even in the larger ensemble scenes, it was clear which of them was the focus – the interplay then between the main action and those surrounding it adding context to the drama. Attention is first drawn to Miss Roach, the lonely spinster, who sits with her drink at a corner table before attracting the eye of Ernest Ralph Gorse, a cad. Every emotion and intention of the two is distinct and compelling – the longing and loneliness, the deceit and conniving are so clear that the pair draw tears of compassion and righteous anger in equal measure. Michela Meazza’s performance is wonderfully nuanced and melancholic, whilst the slick moves and smarmy smiles of her seducer, Glenn Graham, contort with cruelty.

Some of the stories are clearly told, whilst others leave more to the imagination. Jenny Maple, a young prostitute (Hannah Kremer), plies her trade coquettishly amongst the customers, whilst George Harvey Bone (Will Bozier) longs to shower the objects of his desire with love but is found wanting. All of the characters are distinct and flawlessly drawn and performed by the New Adventures cast.

Basing the plots on the work of English novelist Patrick Hamilton, whose most famous works were Rope and Gaslight, this piece of dance theatre pays homage to what was perhaps the predecessor of the kitchen sink dramas of the 60s. With nods along the way to Marilyn Monroe, Poirot and Miss Marple, this, for all the undercurrent of danger, illicit and brutal relationships and that sense of liberation between the wars, inhabits a peculiar space in our collective psyche. This is a glamorous age but tinged with sadness and foreboding.

It is a truly beautiful spectacle – which begs to be captured – if only for a fleeting moment. Matthew Bourne’s genius is to elevate those everyday experiences of love and longing into a work of art.