Full of passion, drama and suffering, this interpretation of the famous Andalusian legend was very different from Bizet's famous opera.

The tale was not a breezy, happy one and the half-empty venue reflected a tendency for it to be slightly inaccessible (although competition with the Bizet version shown the day before at the Brighton Centre can't have helped ticket sales).

However, the show was created and performed with an arresting intensity and translates an old story in a new and interesting way.

Set in early 19th-Century Seville, the legend follows the tempestuous love affair between a gipsy girl and an invading Basque soldier, tragically ending with her murder.

While the famous Bizet opera represents Carmen as a pleasure-loving femme fatale, this version put heavy emphasis on the historical context and portrayed the heroine as a victim of her times, symbolically representing all the poor women cigarette makers who suddenly found financial freedom and famously fought for their rights.

The heavily political slant was given specific focus in a scene depicting the historical accuracy of a freedom-fighting general's execution - an event interpreted as having great significance to the people Carmen represents.

Although it would be difficult to know what was going on if you hadn't done your homework, this inclusion gave the performance the wider significance it aspired to.

The show was made up of a relatively small cast. Apart from a large military bugle and drum band, which remained on stage throughout, there were only three singers, three guitarists, a horse rider, a few extras and the two leads.

The latter were left to do most of the dancing and worked up quite a sweat, hardly surprising when you consider the exhausting nature of foot stamping.

Both gave impressive performances full of passionate, energetic vigour.

But for me, the star of the show was the dancing lipizzaner stallion, which arrived on stage with flamboyant flamenco steps to woo the seductive Carmen and jolted the audience to attention.

Although I had been a bit suspicious about the gimmicky nature of putting a live horse on stage, in reality, I found the scene full of dramatic impact.

The horse symbolised power and conquest in Andalusian culture - appropriate considering the show's themes about a region ravaged for centuries by war.

As the majestic creature frolicked around the stage, it certainly impressed not only with its power but its beauty as well.