Inspired by a 2022 visit to Matthew Bourne’s Car Man, Chickenshed’s latest production is a modernised adaptation of Bizet’s Carmen, set in a refugee camp ten years from now. Having already lost their homes, and now living at the mercy of the camp’s brutal army regime, the refugees have established a circus as the only opportunity to retain their voice and culture. The star of the show is Carmen (Bethany Hamlin), a fearless, passionate woman who’s not afraid to speak up for herself and for those who look to her for leadership. But when she finds herself caught between two men, arrogant fellow circus star Escamillo (Michael Bossisse) and jealous army guard Don Jose (Will Laurence) – who is himself pursued by the lovesick Micaela (Cerys Lambert) – can her independent spirit survive?

Bizet’s music is the starting point for a vibrant, creative production that brings the 150-year-old story bang up to date. Director Cara McInanny has worked with a core creative team of seven to retain the key themes, both musical and narrative, but set them to a fresh rap soundtrack performed by a diverse cast of 150. With its refugee camp setting, the show feels urgent and timely, and the addition of circus skills from several members of the cast brings an extra thrill of excitement, proving there really is very little the Chickenshed community can’t turn its hand to.

The performances from the central four actors are excellent, but Bethany Hamlin in particular dazzles as Carmen; whether dancing, singing, rapping or performing aerial hoop routines, she doesn’t put a foot wrong throughout the two-hour show. Her Carmen is feisty and sexy, but she also shows a vulnerability in quieter moments that make the character all the more real and relatable – we have no trouble believing that this is a woman who’s lost everything and is desperately clinging to the only stability she can find, by any means necessary.

The rap aspect of the show works well for the most part (although there are moments where the music drowns out the lyrics, making it hard to follow). Nor does the reworking of the music take away from Bizet’s classic melodies, which are all still there; in fact I challenge you to not walk out singing “Nar-ciss-is-tic personality….” set to the tune of “Toreador…” (Try it, it works.) The dance numbers are electric to watch, with brilliant choreography from Michael Bossisse, and bring even more energy to an already exhilarating show.

As fresh and exciting as Love from Carmen is, there are times, especially when the whole cast is on stage and it’s difficult to even identify who’s singing, that the spectacle of it all can get a bit overwhelming. This means that the quieter moments, when both audience and production are able to breathe for a minute, feel all the more powerful by contrast. The final scene, meanwhile, is full of drama and yet simultaneously stripped back in an incredibly clever and visually striking way, allowing it to perfectly walk the line between the two extremes, and bringing the show to a memorable conclusion.

Love from Carmen is, once again, an extraordinary showcase of the huge talent and creativity that lies within Chickenshed. It brings an old story into the 21st century, adding a political twist and opening it up to new audiences who might otherwise never have experienced it – and that in itself is worth applauding.