Named after the greatest tank battle in military history but capable of delivering more destructive power than was unleashed in the entire Second World War, the Russian submarine Kursk sank during an exercise in the Barents Sea in 2000.

This uniquely atmospheric show by Sound & Fury effectively places the audience on board a British submarine which it is suggested was spying at close quarters on the Russians at the time.

The submarine movie – coincidentally the subject of a BBC4 documentary this week – is a distinctive cinematic genre rooted in the unique combination of claustrophobia and the tension generated by threats which are generally heard but unseen. If you have ever seen Das Boot you will get the picture.

Here those familiar elements are deployed live and in three dimensions, with the dimly-lit studio theatre evocatively transformed into a submarine interior with control room, bunks and mess room. In this promenade performance the audience finds itself rubbing shoulders with a highly trained crew whose members are tightly bound together by the mysterious rituals of controlling the vessel, but who fragment in more relaxed moments into a random mix of personalities with contrasting lives left behind them on shore.

The sense of getting to know these people is uncanny, which makes it all the more harrowing when an internal tragedy emerges to parallel that of the vessel our boys have been sent to photograph close up. It is a superb ensemble performance by the crew, or rather cast. But you will rarely see or hear a show in which the sound design plays such a leading role. Its generally eerie repertoire ranges from whale-song to a traumatic collision with a lost freight container, and the heart-stopping moment in which we hear the Kursk pass over our heads is not one you will forget in a hurry.

The suggestion here is that the British submarine cannot alert the Russians to the disaster it has witnessed because it would reveal its spying mission. So as well as being a gripping yarn in its own right, it casts a questioning light on the notion of national security and puts flesh and blood on election-time debates on the value of defence spending.

Running time: One hour, 30 minutes (no interval). Until Saturday.

Rating: 5/5