I found Chronicles an amazing but frustrating piece of theatre.

It is amazing for the raw energy unleashed and directed by this supple, tight-knit group of performers but frustrating because I was left cold by a work designed to strike straight at the guts.

The show is based on the 5,000-year-old epic of Gilgamesh, which tells the story of a demigod in battle with the great goddess Ishtar and ultimately death itself.

Poland's Teatr Piesn Kozla (Song of the Goat Theatre) use this as the springboard for a piece about mourning, our resistance to death and the release of finally accepting it.

They spent years researching ancient funeral songs and rituals for the work, performed in seven different languages.

The combination of one of the world's oldest myths and a primal human emotion - grief - should produce the kind of theatre which transcends words.

At least half the audience stood up to clap and shout bravo at the end, so for them it obviously worked.

But I found the babble of languages poured out on stage a real barrier to understanding what was going on, despite reading the programme notes.

The actors can communicate pure agony with their whole bodies but I had no idea why they were gesticulating.

The drone and sob of the mourning songs are stirring but not piercing. Without empathy, there is only so much wrenching ululation you can take.

The three moments which did catch my breath are all produced by the taut, graceful and language-free movements of the dancers.

At the beginning, a barechested man spins into a dim spotlight, turning and leaping silently before vanishing again like a hallucination.

Later, three male dancers roll and fly over a table, supporting themselves in unbelievably slow bends and landing so lightly they make no sound at all - a heartstopping combination of strength and control.

At the end a man lies in the fading light, talking louder and more desperately to stave off death and darkness until they inevitably fall.

Chronicles has received dizzying reviews elsewhere and is obviously a real labour of sweat, blood, love and some serious research.

I don't know exactly why it failed to move me but I would recommend reading up on the epic of Gilgamesh before seeing it.

Without that deeper understanding it feels like the funeral service for a stranger, sung in a foreign tongue.

Showing until Saturday 29 October, call 01273 647100