Before we start, I have some allegiances I should probably declare. I personally know two members of the Gormenghast cast (Gormencast?), as well as the show’s marketing officer. This, however, has absolutely no bearing on my opinion that Gormenghast is a spookily atmospheric two hours that deserves your attention.

I was a little wary of how exactly the Oxford Theatre Guild would manage to cram the sprawling vistas of Castle Gormenghast into the Old Fire Station’s relatively compact black box, but for the most part, Jordan Bisché’s theatre-of-the-mind approach works quite effectively at conveying the tone of the thing, especially in giving more prominence to the slimy denizens within its walls. Mervyn Peake purists may have to temper any expectations of mountain vistas or decaying Gothic grandeur, as much of the setting is conveyed through sound and lighting changes and a cobweb-strewn scaffold centrepiece, but it also allows the machinations of its characters to take centre-stage.

Gormenghast is at its heart about power - the lengths one will take to get it and the lengths one will take to escape it. The former journey is undertaken by lowly kitchen boy Steerpike (Mark Fiddaman) who embarks on a murderous plot to rise through the ranks of the family Groan. Fiddaman shifts from quivering, spidery intensity to looming authority with ease, a chameleonic approach that suits master manipulator Steerpike down to the ground, and pairs especially well with Catrin Lawrence’s sweetly wistful and melancholy Lady Fuschia, on whom he sets his sights. Conversely Titus, son of the house of Groan and heir to its dynasty, wants no part in it - 17-year-old Oscar Luckett performs with a maturity and confidence beyond his tender years (though your suspension of disbelief might strain at the brief moment where we are told this six-foot-something, basso profundo voiced lad in short pants is seven years old - don’t worry, he hits his teen years shortly after).

The clashes between Titus and Steerpike make for some of the show’s most arresting moments, including an impressively choreographed fight scene in the second act that quite literally hits hard. But the whole cast should come in for praise, especially when it comes to their delivery of Peake’s text. The writing style of Gormenghast is grimily ornate and can be a challenge to adapt to spoken word without coming across as abstruse, and all manage to breathe life into it. In particular David Guthrie as Master of Ritual Barquentine seems born to hurl filthy Peakean epithets at his enemies; Matt Blurton’s cleaver-happy chef Swelter’s glowering rage really brings the gore and filth of his dialogue bubbling to the surface; and Freyja Madsen’s Countess Groan has a touch of Lady Macbeth (incidentally Madsen’s previous role with OTG) in the steely efficiency and cold command with which she delivers her eerie portents.

There are points where the limits of the staging start to give - especially when scenes transition speedily between different parts of the castle grounds, it can be hard to get a grasp of where people are in relation to each other, and therefore how close they are to danger. In the second act, a sequence in which our principal cast take turns walking from one side of the stage to another conveys each character’s individual movements, but without a strong sense of where we are it can feel like we’re watching them narrowly miss each other in a corridor. We also had the odd lag with lighting, some characters’ deaths precipitating a blackout and other corpses rising to exit with the lights still on as the scene transitioned.

But this production’s real strength is in its character drama, and the minimal staging really lets that shine. Whether in Titus’ rejection of his mother’s long withheld pride, or in Steerpike’s gorgeously Machievellian soliloquy to a pair of skulls, the decision to pare back Gormenghast’s epic scope brings Peake’s characterisation into focus and emphasises its emotional depth. If you’re looking for heaps of epic lore, you’re likely to leave unsatisfied; but for an intriguing, character-driven take on Peake’s universe, all roads lead back to Gormenghast.