The Roman version, complete with nudity, son's twisted passion

Oh, Oedipus. If it weren't for your fateful patricidal foible, generations of post-Freudian boys might have avoided the accusatory aim of your famous complex.

But here you are in our collective unconscious, and we may as well delve into your tragic depths. Sometimes, the results may even be timely and moving, as in Akropolis Performance Lab's inspired adaptation of Seneca's "Oedipus."

Seneca's play, a less-known Roman counterpart to Sophocles' well-known "Oedipus Rex," carries all the added gore and gristle that we've come to associate with those Romans. Among the many gems in the stomach-churner department are a putrid, detailed account of animal sacrifice (oozing liver and quivering entrails included) and a gruesome color-commentary of Oedipus' eye-gouging finale.

Akropolis, under the direction of Joseph Lavy, matches this unflinching Roman mindset by embracing the churning sexual undercurrent of "Oedipus."

Nudity? You bet, of the full-frontal variety, and plenty of it. (Of all the ancient texts in which nudity might be rightly warranted, "Oedipus" certainly heads the list.)

With the formal rigor that marks academic training (the cast sports two advanced degrees and several classically trained musicians among them), Akropolis displays an excellence that blurs genre lines.

Tightly performed dance sequences merge with Latin choral odes compiled by chorus-leader Jennifer Lavy (and performed a cappella); all is laid out with vocal and physical exactitude.

The difficulty in performing "Oedipus" lies in the fact that, truly speaking, not much happens. Before the curtain ever rises, Oedipus has already taken his father's life and his mother's bed, has already brought a plague upon his people. The action, as Freud might suggest, is entirely psychological.

Joseph Lavy, as Oedipus, paints this psychological landscape beautifully, quietly unraveling Oedipus' slow descent into personal darkness.

The ensemble cast behind him captures both the desperation of the seething masses and the deeply personal relationships between Oedipus and those in his inner circle.

With the exception of the program notes, Akropolis avoids obvious contemporary references with the adaptation, letting the plague, terror and power struggles speak alone.

Somehow managing to avoid any shadow of humor (particularly given the well-ridiculed subject matter of "Oedipus"), this straight-faced bunch puts together a seriously satisfying performance.