A Clockwork Orange at SiLo Theatre

Medieval miracle plays were driven out of the church because the Devil always got the best lines. A similar conundrum has haunted A Clockwork Orange.

In the novel, Little Alex is presented as a remorseless psychopath. In the film version he became a Dionysian anti-hero whose drug-fuelled mayhem exposed the hypocrisies of a corrupt society.

In SiLo's adaptation, attention shifts from Alex's love of violence and we are given a disturbing vision of a society reliant on the brutality of state authorities, routinely using institutional violence.

By focusing on how society deals with Alex, the production introduces a modern variation on the problem of creating sympathy for the Devil. The Victim gets all the best lines along with the best sound track and the most compelling visual imagery.

The ultra-violence perpetrated by Little Alex barely registers when compared with the relentless victimisation that Alex suffers. He is brutalised by the police, betrayed by his fellow droogs, tortured with aversion therapy, duped by his sexual partners, humiliated by social workers, manipulated by politicians and rejected by his mother.

These moments are all delivered with panache. Director Andrew Foster has a talent for orchestrating multi-layered images in which complex ensemble work, music and video projection are blended with strong visual design.

He also effectively combines dance and drama.

With a large cast, performances are uneven, but Danielle Cormack is convincing as she takes on five roles, giving each a distinctive vocal style. She has a knack for humanising the most repulsive characters.

Adam Gardiner, as Alex, has a commanding stage presence but projects an engaging haughtiness rather than the malevolent sadism needed if the audience is to feel revulsion at Alex's thuggery.

The performances are not helped by a script containing too much expository dialogue. Often the director creates visual images that convey all the information needed and then undermines the power of the scene by introducing unnecessary dialogue.

Whatever its flaws, this ambitious project succeeds admirably.

Most importantly, it presents Burgess' story with all its ironies and nuances intact.

Rather than looking at violence as the aberrant behaviour of a few individuals, the production invites us to consider our culture's infatuation with the aesthetics of violence and to face the potential for violence that resides within all of us.