Stomp

Grand Canal Theatre, Dublin

It starts with one worker and his brush, tap tapping and brush brushing across the stage. It’s a singularly ineffectual cleaning style, admittedly, but it seems to be the technique favoured by his seven colleagues, who gradually join him in a dazzlingly rhythmic cascade of banging brushes and clattering handles.

It can only be the exhilarating opening sequence to Stomp, surely the most onomatopoeic theatrical sensation of its generation. This year marks its 20th anniversary and, amazingly, the last time it appeared in Dublin was at the Gaiety in 1993. While it might not appear as fresh and innovative as it did then, principally due to overfamiliarity as much as anything, there's plenty of beat-filled life left in this justifiably beloved show.

The dizzying display of percussive choreography, or perhaps choreographed percussion, grew out of creators Steve McNicholas and Luke Cresswell’s street theatre experience, though two decades touring the world and breaking box-office records has somewhat removed them from their days on the Edinburgh Fringe.

The set and costume design still give a nod to Stomp’s street origins, even if the “gritty urban” look more closely resembles an early 1990s MTV show, all spray-painted corrugated iron, battered street signs and, of course, metal trash cans.

The octet of drumming dancers gives a virtuosic exhibition of percussive music making and, just as importantly, the dancers’ comic timing is as sharp as their rhythm – everything from Zippos to kitchen sinks to newspapers get lit, rattled and torn in exquisite harmony. By the end, they’ve earned their rapturous applause, even if they choreograph most of it in an impressive feat of audience interaction. Clapping your hands raw has rarely been as much fun.

Until March 6