Despite being written almost 400 years ago in a society vastly different from our own, this Renaissance classic still evokes visceral responses. There is something deeply attractive about a story of passionate love between brother and sister, vengeful adulteresses and corrupt cardinals which all end in a bloody birthday party.

This production, in particular, was an especially immersive experience due to the wonderfully intimate space of the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse. Opened in January, this smaller, indoor sister theatre of the Globe gives the characters extraordinary freedom to embrace the audience into the deliciously hypocritical, bloody and of course, incestuous world of 17th century Italy.

The candlelit setting lends itself to the clever play of light and shadow, while its small size allows characters to come up close and the audience becomes part of the set – at one point, Anabella’s dim suitor Bergetto falls over the railings and into an audience member’s lap. Intimate scenes are played with the candle lights lowered to cast gentle shadows on faces, which are then elevated in the more public scenes. The lights are extinguished one by one as Annabella’s incestuous pregnancy is revealed and the vengeful adulteress Hippolita’s plot comes together with the schemes of each suitor – culminating in the mistaken murder of Bergetto in complete darkness.

With three layers of performance space, the story is presented with exciting visual variation, where a visitor can walk in on a heated discussion happening on the main stage from a lower entrance while Annabella and her housekeeper looks on from the balcony above; and at the same time other characters sing a chorus on the sides and someone slams open the doors and walk on stage.

In my view, this production’s achievement was to make excellent use of the unique space to highlight the play’s unbridled passions.

Despite that, the play refrains from making a judgment on the incest or the corrupt society where it happens, simply making it plain to the audience and allowing us to decide for ourselves.

There is an interesting balance between simplicity and grandeur, with the almost minimalist costumes contrasted with the classical choir interludes and live music. The absence of ostentatious sets and showy props brings out the fine acting of Fiona Button as the passionate, vivacious Annabella who simply follows her heart, and Max Bennett as the stubborn and arrogant Giovanni, who insists on justifying his love with verses from the Bible.

There are also delightful comic interludes from James Garnon as the “dunce” of a suitor, who transforms into a corrupt cardinal later in the play. Amid the materialistic, amoral society the characters live in, the transgressive relationship between the siblings holds a kind of warped innocence, only to have everything spiral out of control as Giovanni is gripped by obsession and vengeance. Blood and death ends the play with the cardinal remarking coolly that all possessions of the dead will be taken away by the church.

‘Tis Pity is a fascinating theatrical journey that makes classical theatre accessible and enjoyable for the modern audience and is definitely not to be missed.

‘Tis Pity is on at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse until 7th December