THE stars certainly conspire in this ominous and timely masterclass of Shakespeare’s King Lear.

It may be 400 years since the great man died, but never has a play seemed so relevant.

As the lights dim, we find Cordelia (Beth Cooke) alone on the stage - she carves an ethereal figure, almost frail under the spotlight.  In an unexpected twist, she has a gun. Her eyes dark and intense, she takes aim into the audience. The wheel is in motion.

Led by four-time Olivier Award nominee Michael Pennington, the cast quickly ascend the Everest of classical acting in an action-packed, physical performance that grips from the beginning.

Pennington steals the show with his vulnerable, fragile version of Lear.  In the throne room as he informs his three daughters Goneril (Catherine Bailey), Regan (Sally Scott) and Cordelia of his decision to split his kingdom into three parts, he storms across the stage with a booming voice and inflated sense of authority. But as the discord grows, he seems to shrink in size, the intonation in his voice varying as wildly as his erratic moods.

By the time he has reached the heath, and appears in a dazzling stage show of fake snow and smoke, he is a shadow of his former self.

The audience is audibly shocked as Gloucester (Pip Donaghy) has his eyes gouged out by Cornwall (Shane Attwooll) in a terrifyingly realistic attack which leaves dark wells of blood pooled in his eyes.

A scheming, skinny jean, biker boot-wearing Edmund (Scott Karim) adds a modern touch to the show. His intoxicating voice and urban swagger leaves us in no doubt as to how we managed to seduce both Goneril and Regan as part of his Machiavellian plot to seize power.

Kent (Tom McGovern), the Fool (Joshua Elliott) and Edgar (Gavin Fowler) provide the laughs in accomplished performances. McGovern particularly stands out when pretending to be Caius – his ability to transform himself into an entirely different character must be unparalleled.

As the tragedy reaches its final resting point, the sense of chaos is palpable. Pennington’s howls of despair as he emerges holding a lifeless Cordelia pulsate through the theatre.

It’s not just a kingdom divided, but a kingdom destroyed.  As Gloucester opines to Edmund in the first act: “Friendships fall off, brothers divide, in cities mutinies, in countries discord.”

A more eloquent warning up of today’s political environment has perhaps not been uttered.