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Cymbeline is one of the least performed of Shakespeare’s plays. To modern audiences, the overly elaborate plot - mixing elements of history, folk romance, a story from Bocaccio and a few swipes at Italians - might seem a trifle cumbersome.

The play hasn’t been seen in London since Mike Alfreds’ excellent production at the Globe four years ago. That was a remarkably clear and uncluttered version, which simply told the story and kept the audience involved. Now, boldly stepping up to the plate, it’s Rachel Kavanaugh who tackles this complex play.

The action starts with an unusually long and involved exposition scene. Kavanaugh makes this slightly more palatable by using the whole cast as the chorus – which also helps to identify the relevant characters. The director has wielded the knife at the text in several places, not least dispensing with the appearance of Jupiter to Posthumus. As a result of such pruning, things race along at a fair pace.

But there’s little that Kavanaugh can do to nullify the effect of the last act, where Shakespeare looks like he’s just got bored with the play and is itching for it to end. The rising tide of audience laughter on press night indicates that a modern audience appreciates the preposterousness of Shakespeare’s intentions.

The perception of the central character of Imogen is something that has changed with time. The Victorians were fond of this character, seeing her as a manifestation of chastity. A strange belief perhaps as it’s a reputation gained from the fact that Imogen doesn’t sleep with some smooth-talker within five minutes of meeting him. Twenty-first century audiences see her as more complicated than that: as a woman who, rejected by her father and abandoned by her husband, has to survive many of life’s vicissitudes. But Emma Pallant doesn’t really get to grips with the many intricacies of the character.

The standout performance is the smoothly villainous Iachimo courtesy of Simon Day. With his sharp Italian, he’s every inch the Eurosceptic’s worst nightmares come to life. It’s easy to make the character a caricature of malevolence, but Day makes him frighteningly plausible.

There’s a highly comic Cloten from James Loye. His aristocratic oafishness is instantly recognisable to anyone who’s ventured down to Parson’s Green at a weekend, although perhaps he lacks some of the character’s nastiness - not a complaint that could be made about Harriet Thorpe’s scheming Queen. At least we should be grateful that Regent’s Park hasn’t given us yet another Midsummer Night’s Dream this year, but there are plenty of other rare Shakespeare plays to do. Given the sketchy nature of the raw material, director and cast combine to make this Cymbeline as entertaining an evening as possible.

- Maxwell Cooter