The Passion Machine's production of Diarmuid And Grainne is a showcase for what this company does best: slick, witty and possibly wise interpretations of contemporary life. In this case, they have the audacity to translate a revered Irish legend of heroes and heroines to the sordid streetscape of Dublin's gangland - a setting that accommodates the violent love story without too much tweaking.

Deirdre, in this clever adaptation by director Paul Mercier, is the daughter of a crime boss desired by, and eventually married to, his rival. Criminal dynasties have their own honour codes, and here, with more warlords, defections, spies and retaliations than Afghanistan, the heroine abducts the hero in the certain knowledge that retribution will follow amid torrents of obscenities and bullets.

Inventive and extremely funny, the story explodes - one couldn't say unfolds - in scenes that melt rapidly from Crimeline tapes into photo opportunities for The Jerry Springer Show and The Weakest Link. Such devices accelerate the plot, which survives, even in its legendary significance, through episodes of orchestrated dialogue and well-drilled chorus-line routines. Emily Nagle gives a Grainne of mingled pathos and aggression, and she is convincing, as is each performance that emerges from the ensemble episodes obviously relished by all seven players. John Dunne's music makes this almost a musical tragedy - if it weren't so funny - and Sinead McKenna's lighting supports his mood changes with flair. Equally, Anne Gately's costumes follow through on the focused originality of a production in which everything is adaptable.

Runs until December 8th; to book, phone 021-4503077