An Inspector Calls

The Alhambra

Think of An Inspector Calls - JB Priestley's haunting study of class, capitalism and social injustice - and the image coming to mind is likely to be an Edwardian drawing-room.

Once a repertory theatre staple, now a popular choice for amateur dramatic societies, the play has been revolutionised by Stephen Daldry’s inventive staging, first seen at the National Theatre in 1992.

It's the story of wealthy mill-owning family the Birlings, and the role they each play on the downfall of a young woman. We meet the Birlings during a dinner celebrating their daughter's engagement, interrupted by a police inspector. The play is set in 1912, on the eve of a war that was to change the world, but its themes are universal and timeless. Rather than presenting it as a period piece, this acclaimed production turns it into an urban thriller, with a sweeping, at times chilling, cinematic score and a fabulous set placing the Birlings' house in a bleak landscape of dirty cobbled streets, with grey clouds circling above.

Instead of being inside the house with the family, our first glimpse of them is behind closed doors; snippets of light and laughter coming from lit windows. The house appears like a ship in the night, to music that evoked a sense of Hitchcock-style suspense, and we watch them as outsiders, never invited in.

When the inspector arrives, the walls of their home open, like a dolls house, and one by one the Birlings are stripped of their self-satisfaction

and sense of privilege.

Liam Brennan was excellent as the mysterious Inspector Goole; appearing silently out of the darkness of the auditorium. He was controlled and quietly menacing, with a human touch that saved him from complacency, and his final speech, about the responsibility we have to each other, lingered long after the curtain had fallen.

Strong performances all round from an impressive ensemble cast. Geoff Leesley got it just right as self-made man Arthur Birling, stubborn

and deluded to the last, and Caroline Wildi, as his wife, Sybil, gave a powerful performance of a woman whose self-control is gradually peeled away.

Katherine Jack brought vulnerability and self awareness to spoilt Sheila, while Hamish Riddle and Matthew Douglas also gave nicely rounded portrayals of, respectively, hapless Eric and Sheila's philandering fiance, Gerald.

A mention too to the impressive local actors playing the passers-by and children populating the street, appearing like a Greek chorus towards the end.

The play is, of course, a set school text and much of last night's audience was comprised of teenagers. Yes, they were a bit noisy and over-excited, with the occasional ripple of inappropriate laughter, but it was heartening to see how engaged they were with the action on stage. The four lads sitting to the side of me were gripped - which speaks volumes for a play written more than 70 years ago.

Walking back to the car park afterwards, I passed the statue of JB Priestley opposite the Alhambra, his coat flapping in the wind. I'm pretty sure he'd have approved of this production.

Runs until Saturday.