There’s an absence of woad, saltires and tartan in the Teatro Regio di Torino production of Verdi’s Macbeth – for which, much thanks. On the other hand, Emma Dante’s staging and Vanessa Sannino’s costumes don’t seem to know what continent they are in, or what century. While individual scenes and bits of action work extremely well in isolation, put together with the libretto, they jar.

The bubbling cauldron – red-streaked cloth undulating on the stage – is effective, then it turns into a witches’ Sabbath and orgy, complete with satyrs. Macbeth’s castle is adorned with what first appears to be a sunburst of spears and lances, or maybe a bedstead, but is replicated four times and, apparently, represents the crown.

King Duncan’s arrival is preceded by a pierrot troupe and an armed guard rather camply mock-fighting. The king is carried on a high narrow throne wearing a crown that makes him look a bit like a Pharoah. After the murder, his body is washed on stage in a series of tableaux recalling Christ taken down from the Cross – at which point crucifixes light up. Lady Macbeth, afflicted by insomnia, is beset by moving beds, which circle her in a menacing manner.

More comprehensible, the murder of Banquo – by soldiers in full-length bearskin coats – is darkly effective, as is the chorus lamenting the suffering in Scotland; bodies lie on the stage and are individually covered by a sheet, before being dragged off.

Most effective is the banquet scene, where steps are put together and Macbeth mounts them, only for the lower steps to be removed leaving him, at the end of the scene, alone on the stage and with no way down from the throne. Even there, though, the scene had begun with four women writhing in a pole-dancing way behind the largest bedstead – for no apparent reason – and there are so many in the chorus and dancers that it seems as if the whole population of Scotland is in attendance.

Throughout, the athleticism of the dancers – witches, satyrs, pierrots – is astounding, as is Manuela Lo Sicco’s choreography more generally. But replacing Birnam Wood with a forest of prickly pear, in flower, is the point at which the suspenders of disbelief snap.

The singing, however, makes up for any reservations about the staging. Anna Pirozzi is a fine Lady Macbeth – though, why is she wearing red fingerless gloves from her first appearance? Macbeth’s descent from conquering hero to isolated monarch to on-stage death is sung with conviction by Dalibor Jenis. Banquo is well-sung by Marko Mimico and Piero Pretti  is movingly eloquent in Macduff’s lament for his children. Meanwhile, in the pit, Gianandrea Noseda conducts this musically satisfying spectacle.