Frank Wedekind’s Lulu is a story of seduction and tragedy. Choosing adjectives to describe Nicholas Wright’s adaptation of this controversial nineteenth-century play is challenging. It’s humorous at first, Lulu (though she is known by a variety of names) works her way through several husbands in German high society and gains considerable notoriety. She enjoys her power, the attention she receives and the privilege of wealth.

However, through the play’s five acts, Lulu takes on a darker tone. Fluid set changes between acts are accompanied by Alex Hall’s haunting score, and a new actress playing Lulu. Each actress brings with her continuity, but an evolving personality. Leonie Benesch is extremely flirtatious, somewhat arrogant and manipulative. Claudia Jolly is slyly intelligent, while Ellen Gibbon’s is wracked by tragedy.

For me, Countess Geschwitz (played by Bessie Carter) was the highlight of the show; her performance is heart-breaking. While Rodrigo (Nicholas Richardson) adds a playful element, and Schigolch (Paul Gorostidi) is impossible to take your eyes off with his energetic (perhaps over-acted) performance, Geschwitz suffers. She is bullied, but remains loyal, and is one of the few characters who possesses a genuine love rather than lust.

It’s a complex play that could be interpreted in many different ways. Some may see it as horrendously misogynistic, while others will praise the strength of Lulu’s individual personality.

Lulu is hard-hitting and bordering on melodramatic.

Generally, the story is coherent, but I felt that more foreshadowing of future events and characters was in order. Lulu lacks a quest – what does she actually want? What are any of the characters attempting to achieve? It’s unclear, and an out-of-the-blue climax left me craving some sense of epilogue or resolution.

There isn’t any, and perhaps that’s the intention. Lulu finishes on a profoundly unsettling note – a note that doesn’t finish but fades into infinity. Wedekind himself was a man with a prodigious sex life, frequenting prostitutes and eventually contracting syphilis. He sends vivid messages about the dangers of narcissism, lust and sex. In fact, it’s so starkly portrayed in Lulu that the programme includes a double-page spread on sexual compulsivity, including contact details for Victim Support and Sexual Compulsives Anonymous.

Competent direction by Christian Burgess marries well with Johanna Town’s eerie lighting and Erin Witton’s effective soundscapes. This is also one of the few plays I’ve attended that also includes a video designer (Matthew Ferguson) that adds an especially dramatic turn to one scene.

Lulu is hard-hitting and bordering on melodramatic. It is thought-provoking and leaves you pondering the complexities of the human psyche. Guildhall’s final-year actors and musicians are oozing with talent, and they tackled this brave play with sophistication.