A captivating crime narrative lies at the core of Justitia, almost equal parts theatre and dance.

Not so much a whodunnit, as a “how did it happen?”, the piece explored a man’s murder in his best friend’s home, apparently perpetrated by the latter’s wife.

The action played out on a continually revolving stage, divided between three rooms – an ostensibly simple device which proved an inspired decision.

The dancers shifted between contexts and chronology with no aim other than driving the story along, sometimes physically rewinding the sequences of events (complete with distorted backward tape noises from the cast) to play out all possible murder scenarios for the benefit of the audience/jury.

By placing Rebecca Lenkiewicz’s words in the dancer’s mouths and projecting the output of an omniscient court stenographer on to the stage, Justitia’s characters were richly fleshed out with back stories and individual voices, but this went too far in places.

A lengthy exorcism of one character’s guilt at hitting a small child in her car detracted from an otherwise strong story and the piece had its fair share of overly ponderous moments.

This aside, the use of sombre dialogue and projections was, for the most part, an engaging counterpoint to the vibrant, often stunning set pieces. A Kung-fu film pastiche drew giggles from the audience, along with the laddish acrobatics of the two friends at the beginning of the story.

With a beautifully-designed set and rich, characterful choreography, there was always something to keep the eyes content.