Scorched is an intense experience, laden as it is with bits of just about every genre you can think of – tragedy, comedy, horror, domestic drama, heroic quest, military epic – and symbolism. Lots and lots of symbolism. The sheer weight of these various elements threatens to drown the play, but this production is saved by outstanding performances and some excellent design.

Nawal (played at various stages of her life by Paula Arundell, Gillian Jones and Zindzi Okenyo) has died, and her will contains some surprises. Her children, estranged from their mother thanks to her refusal to speak for the preceding five years, are stunned to learn that not only is the father they believed to be dead alive, but they have a brother as well. Introverted mathematician Janine (Yael Stone) sets off on a quest to her mother’s homeland to get to the bottom of the mystery, while boxer Simon (Ashley Lyons) feels compelled to be very, very angry.

Writer Wajdi Mouawad is from Lebanon, and some of the characters and events are based on the Israeli occupation of that country. Yet he is deliberately coy about where his play is set – it is always referred to, somewhat clunkily, as “the country that my mother came from”. I can only assume that this is to make the brutality depicted seem universal, but given the obviousness of the subject matter it proves to be more of a distraction than an effective device.

There are a few instances of clumsiness in the writing that interfere with the poetry or horror that Mouawad is aiming for. A slow-building, horrific scene has its effectiveness destroyed in an instant by a blunt metaphor involving a mathematical problem. The plot becomes entangled in a series of coincidences so bizarre and unbelievable that it starts to feel a little like Dickens on crack. Mouawad clearly gifted; his characters are strong and memorable, and he knows how to draw you into a story. Unfortunately with Scorched, he seems to have tried cramming every idea and experience he ever had into the one play.

Despite this, Scorched is a success thanks to believable, gut-wrenching performances by everyone involved. The three women who play Nawal are stunning, as are Stone and Lyons. Hazem Shammas, being required to play a sensitive lover, a psychotic torturer and a Toto-loving sniper, is energetically versatile. Brian Lipson is terrific as Nawal’s notary, a garrulous buffoon who acts as her children’s guide and conscience. Adam Hatzimanolis, Lucia Matrantone and George Spartels all do well in diverse supporting roles.

The design is Spartan, with sand being pushed around the stage, abstract patterns underneath gradually being exposed and obscured. Director Neil Armfield wrestles with the excesses of the script and manages to produce something that, despite its shortcomings, is memorable and deeply affecting.