Jez Butterworth’s wild and wonderful Jerusalem lands in the Grec theatre like it was always meant to be there. Amidst rock, foliage and the occasional stray cat, this three-hour epic was, according to the playwright, supposed to be about England, but turned into an exploration of his own pervasive “sense of loss.” Whatever was lost, it was commonly missed. In its first run on London’s West End in 2009, Jerusalem proved so successful that people camped outside the theatre to get tickets. 

In this new Catalan version, translated by Cristina Genebat, director Julio Manrique has successfully channelled the play’s sublime allure. Much hinges on the character at its heart, a middle-aged rooted ‘traveller’ called Johnny Byron, played with ogreish mischief by Pere Arquillué. An ageing yet ageless figure, Byron is based on a real person, a retired builder called Micky Lay who lived in a caravan in Wiltshire, southwest England. 

A storyteller or a liar, a visionary or a fiend, Johnny Byron or “Rooster” offers a safe haven, or a den of sin, for local kids who, like their parents did before them, come to him to take drugs and party. His current troupe include teenagers Lee and Davey, Pea and Tanya, an overaged DJ called Ginger, and a charming Professor. They swirl around him like fireflies, or vultures, feeding off his promises of freedom without responsibility. Yet Byron’s days may be numbered: he has been served notice of eviction, a betrayal by those living on a new estate many of whom know and once used him.

Butterworth took years to write Jerusalem, becoming a father in the process. This was not time spent doing research, which he doesn’t believe in, he said, but to wait for the lines to appear: “I know for a fact they don’t come from me.” That magical yet capricious spirit dances along with this production that, lengthy as it is, is a pleasure to watch.