AN INSPECTOPR CALLS is on at the Theatre Royal Bath until November 21

An Inspector Calls is clearly a mainstay of literary canon, if the hordes of GCSE students ferried in to the Theatre Royal last night from surrounding schools are anything to go by.

The BBC certainly had its bite of the cherry with its recent adaptation, the latest in a long list of periodic revivals of JB Priestley's 'drawing room' thriller, all following a well-honed (if a little unimaginative) formula.

But director Stephen Daldry's radical staging and arresting set design bulldoze tired conventions. The opening is nothing short of mesmerising. The set materialises almost organically in front of our eyes. Rain pours on to the stage as a near life-size townhouse looms through a cloud of smoke, gradually advancing towards the audience.

In the midst of this, Inspector Goole waits patiently under a street light. Inside the house the Birlings are celebrating the engagement of their daughter Sheila to Gerald Croft. Before long Goole interrupts the revels with troubling news. A young woman and former employee at Mr Birling's works, has taken her own life. As the interrogation progresses and the inspector relentlessly doles out blame, the truth emerges about their involvement in her untimely demise, and the veneer of respectability cracks.

Liam Brennan is captivating, by turns commanding, menacing and almost predatory, as the dogged and seemingly omniscient, Inspector Goole.

Caroline Wildi is equally masterful as the matriarch Sybil Birling, rolled out by the family to deal with the insistent outsider. Giving as good as she gets, she is fiercely defensive unashamedly unrepentant for her role in the poor girl's death. Except perhaps for a brief moment when in the play's most visually striking scene, her pristine dolls' house literally comes crashing down, shattering any remaining shred of decency.

Ingenious staging and flawless (and at times chilling) performances breathe new life to Priestley's indictment of a self-satisfied upper class that crushes and dehumanises the have-nots without a second thought.

Daldry's use of a nameless, silent mob to confront the family at its most vulnerable truly brings home the meaning of social responsibility for all of us, regardless of creed or class. MARION SAUVEBOIS