Kirill Serebrennikov’s modern-dress production of Mozart’s first opera with librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte is a fantastic multi-layered event, both literally and metaphorically.

The director – who is his own designer – has created an upstairs/downstairs world where the minimalist décor of the apartment of Count and Countess Almaviva with its contemporary artwork is serviced from the cluttered laundry and locker-room below, where Figaro and Suzanna’s new bridal mattress is also the projection screen for phone text messages adding a further dimension to the narrative.

His design neatly solves all the trickiest moments in the plot – the hiding in cupboards and jumping out of windows – and his re-purposing of some of the libretto (Figaro’s opening words have him counting money, not measuring for a bed) also works a treat.

This is a radical re-envisioning of the work, with Cherubino double cast with Cherubina (shades of the character names in The Magic Flute), the former a male mute mime, while mezzo Patricia Nolz sings the role. There is more silent-movie-style clowning from Almaviva’s ever-present henchman, Mikhail Polyakov, and the self-exiled Russian director has a pop at Vladimir Putin in his characterisation of the Count, played by a poised Hubert Zapior.

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Musically, it is wonderful, with superb crisp playing from the orchestra under conductor James Gaffigan (including some century-spanning additions to the harpsichord continuo) and an absolutely top quality – and utterly believable – cast. Peter Kellner is a fine Figaro, not as smart as he think he is, and Verity Wingate and Penny Sofroniadou are excellent in the main female roles, but there are top-level performances, both vocally and in the acting, everywhere, not  least in the Marcellina sub-plot about Figaro’s origins.

There is a major caveat to temper this enthusiasm, however. Serebrennikov’s design may have worked at home in the Komische Oper Berlin, but the homework was not done in considering its transfer to Edinburgh.

The nature of the design means that a lot of the action on the lower part of the set, from the slapstick during the overture onwards, cannot be seen by much of the audience. That includes almost everyone in the Upper Circle and the rear seats in the Grand Circle – tickets for which the Festival is charging a great deal. Those sitting in the front stalls are also likely to miss much of the action at the back of the upper level of the set.

Perhaps this might have been mitigated had the set been constructed further back from the lip of the Festival Theatre stage, but that would have had an impact on the relationship between the singers and the orchestra and conductor. As it is, the Edinburgh transfer is a major technical failure.

Similarly, this Figaro would illustrate the risk in booking on the strength of a star rating without reading to the end of a review, but the production’s short Festival run ends on Sunday evening.