Romeo & Juliet @ Victoria Baths, Manchester

The best site-specific work occurs when the venue works in tandem with the performance occupying it; when the director listens to the space and weaves its eccentricities into their artistic vision. It is therefore refreshing and inspiring to find that, in creating HOME’s second site-specific outing, Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet at the Grade II listed Victoria Baths, director Walter Meierjohann has clearly had his ear to the wall.

A building fraught with majestic beauty, yet unashamedly marred by archaism and disuse, Victoria Baths authentically houses the juxtapositions of Shakespeare’s tragedy without the need for innovative set design. Inviting its promenade audience to observe the opening scenes from the damp – though thankfully empty – depths of the Grand pool, the play's Capulets and Montagues saunter forth from wooden changing cubicles, enacting an amplified, repetitive ensemble performance that brings the principles of the feuding houses quickly into focus.

Mercutio is exquisite. Androgynous and yet filled with intimidating sexual charge, Ncuti Gatwa pitches his performance perfectly, seducing the audience with his colourful costume and vocabulary. His death, however, takes place in a corner of the pool (the audience have since been manoeuvred out of it) that is shielded by a selfish stone pillar – and although they're a common irritation of site-specific performance, sightlines should perhaps be better considered.

The young lovers make a successful pair, though Alex Felton’s Romeo feels a little overzealous at times, and although the intention of portraying a hipster, chain smoking Romeo is clear, a hint of maturation would be welcome as the play’s tone darkens. Sara Vickers’ Juliet is helplessly beautiful, and Meierjohann exchanges shyness for coyness, attributing the character a playful spark that illuminates her scenes (helped, of course, by Ruth Everett’s Lady Capulet, who is truly excellent).

There are some questionable moments: a contemporary pop medley infiltrates the balcony scene in an unwelcome ploy to modernise, and a neon crucifix smacks too much of Luhrmann to proclaim itself original, but they are neutralised by more intelligent scenes that see the lovers suspended on a rope swing in the throes of love or Juliet carried to her watery tomb with the sombre audience following in directed procession.

The overall aesthetic is superb and, slight character flaws aside, this is a convincing production. Arriving to catch the sunset through the stained glass windows is allure enough for some, but Meierjohann’s production offers a lot more than that.