Bawdy, bumptious, knowing and fun, this is the Chaucer I wish I’d been introduced to, as a student struggling to get on with The Canterbury Tales, declaring Middle English to be ‘not my thing’.

Judging from the incredible range of ages in the Theatre Royal audience, many were having their first taste of Chaucer – and what luck too, as Mike Boulton’s adaptation is risqué enough to make Skins look tame in comparison.

The show’s brave exuberance is by no means uncontrolled – you sense the immense craft that has gone into achieving the control and mastery of performance which these talented actors give.

Northern Broadsides’ brave production, complete with enthusiastic, uncensored swything, full-frontal nudity, relentless farting, may sound juvenile – but it is simply a radical departure from the cobwebby misconceptions of the Middle Ages as a time of solemn landscapes and dank, mystical kingdoms.

Instead, it brings Chaucer bang up-to-date by celebrating the humanity that unites us, no matter what the historical period. The show may have alienated theatre audiences expecting a more traditional interpretation, but I suspect that Northern Broadsides put on a show closer to Chaucer’s original conception that any other more tame, anodyne versions.

My criticisms are few: there are parts of Conrad Nelson’s production that could have been excised without anyone noticing – the Crow’s Tale, in particular, felt more of an exercise in self-indulgence. It was a shame to feel myself dragged back into consciousness when the whole play had been so transporting.

The Canterbury Tales remind us that religious hypocrisy, lust, greed and jealousy are timeless themes, and instead of suppressing and reviling these all too human traits, we should acknowledge their existence within ourselves and others. By facing up to our sins we purge ourselves of them, as the hauntingly beautiful end of the production suggests.

*The Canterbury Tales, Northern Broadsides, York Theatre Royal, today at 1.30pm and 7.30pm; tomorrow, 7.30pm; Saturday, 2.30pm and 7.30pm. Box office: 01904 623568.

Catherine Marcus