THERE were tears welling up in Helen George’s eyes as she took the first encore of the night… and it was hardly surprising.

For after nearly 90 minutes of highly charged theatre that took all your emotions to the wire and back, you might say that it would have been strange had there not been some visible effect on the actors.

It’s the night of Labour’s victory in the post-war 1945 general election. The old order has just been cast aside, but in the downstairs kitchen of the big house, there is another class battle unfolding in which there will be no clear winner.

Yes, the rulers’ Cinderella hour may be fast approaching in the world of politics but there are no such clear distinctions as far as the top drawer Julie and her father’s Jack-the-lad chauffeur are concerned.

She teases, cajoles, and finally resorts to virtually ordering him to obey her carnal demands. And finally, when his hapless fiancée has suffered enough and fled the room, the inevitable happens.

Writer Patrick Marber’s fresh look at the August Strindberg 1908 original of this play neatly juxtaposes the kitchen shenanigans with the earth-shattering events taking place outside.

The winds of change are blowing and the draught will be felt in every corner of British national life. From now on, nothing will be the same, including the presumptions of a ruling class clinging to the idea that it can order anything – including sex – by merely ringing a bell and bellowing a command.

Helen George is utterly mesmerising as the tease who rapidly gets out of her comfort zone, while Richard Flood is breathtakingly brilliantly as John, the randy but confused chauffeur, who has literally made his bed and must now lie in it.

Meanwhile, hell hath no fury as spurned fiancée Christine (Amy Cudden) abruptly returns with a temper hotter than the kitchen range at which she so often labours.

This is a fabulous piece of theatre and little wonder that it brought tears to the eyes. After Miss Julie runs until Saturday (June 11).