When confronted with such a uniquely affecting production as this, the phrase critics would usually reach for is "mindblowing".
But the effect of La Morte De Krishna is, in fact, directly the opposite. At the risk of sounding like a Brightonian yoga enthusiast, you experience stillness and focus - a rare thing in the Festival season - and leave feeling as though something in your core has been reconnected and set alight.
This has as much to do with the intimate power of a simple human voice as with the text and innovative director Peter Brook's achievement here is in recognising that these two elements are the essence of good theatre.
Accompanied only by the atmospheric twangs of a solo musician, French actor Maurice Benichou narrates passages from The Mahabharata, Hinduism's 5,000-year-old primary text - and when, in the first sentence, a sun rises on 18 million corpses, you know you're dealing with a narrative whose epic scope makes Lord Of The Rings seem embarrassingly slight.
Benichou's attitude toward the text, like the characters' toward the central god Krishna, is both reverent and fond, drawing out the inherent humour with his expressive French gestures and signifying palpable awe with a mere tonal shift.
His reading seems so instinctive you begin to question the extent of Peter Brook's heralded genius - as Benichou jumps up from his cushions in excitement or enlists the help of a maraca to signify a pack of raging hounds, this is not theatre as we know it but a reaffirmation of the joy of storytelling.
But the real wow factor here is the mythic language, full of images which are so beautiful and true that, even coming to you in surtitle typescript, they are quite capable of taking your breath away.
After taking a bow, Benichou directs our applause to a symbolic elephant mask that has remained on stage throughout, gently indicating the unknown poet and his inspiration as the real forces behind this enthralling piece.
It would probably be crude to ponder whether Hinduism has found new converts tonight but I would certainly suggest local bookshops should stock up on The Mahabharata.
An utterly accessible delight, only those who used to play with the Velcro on their trainers during carpet time should be discouraged from attending La Morte De Krishna. For, if I have one criticism of this production as a piece for the Festival, it is that such a subtly crafted spell can be easily broken.
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