You mightn’t know that ‘faust’ is Latin for lucky, or auspicious. There’s more than a little irony, then, in Christopher Marlowe’s application of the word, a name, for his intellectually gifted character. Was it that Marlowe had a disdain for academia, seeing how clueless even, or especially, the most educated can be? We can probably never know.

What qualifies as lucky, or auspicious, is having the judgment to go along to Bell Shakespeare’s current co-production (with the Queensland Theatre Company) of Faustus, which would seem to bridge time and literary diversity in embracing something of Marlowe’sThe Tragical History of Dr Faustus and Goethe’s later Faust (you can rely on Teutonic economy to trim the title in the interests of efficiency).

The brilliant adaptation is by QTC’s ex-artistic director and erstwhile playwright Michael Gow. Gow and Bell — talk about a power couple. Bell takes on the delectable role of Mephistophilis, the devil’s right-hand man and plays it with relish, but with customary, trademark, painstakingly measured restraint. Bell’s every word and affectation bespeaks, elucidates and embellishes his character, without a hint of excess. It might be trite to observe mastery from one of our acknowledged masters, but it’s a distinct, edifying pleasure to rediscover it each and every time he walks onto a stage.

Ben Winspear is Faustus and he does much more than merely declaim: we acquire a palpable sense of his frustration; his itch that can only be scratched by having it all, even if it means losing it all. Like the master and his other colleagues, Winspear’s technical craft never falters; for students of it, diction and projection as well as an intensive, one-night NIDA workshop. Vanessa Downing’s Hecate, Catherine Terracini’s Belzebub, Kathryn Marquet’s Gretchen and, above all, Jason Klarwein’s Lucifer all excel and are just this side of thrilling.

Matching all the on-stage work are a bevy of beautiful craftspersons behind the scenes, who work collegiately to transform the rather humble Sydney Opera House Playhouse into something resembling a coven, or the unconscious, or something at once familiar and tangible, yet ethereal and just beyond reach; it’s a tightrope walk executed perfectly. Everyone involved seems to subscribe to a less-is-more or, at least, enough-is-enough philosophy of theatrical production. It all works. Superbly.

Make sure you beg, borrow, steal or otherwise obtain a ticket to Gow-Bell’s Faustus. Even if it means selling your grandmother, or something still closer to home.

The details: Faustus is at the Sydney Opera House until July 30. Tickets on the venue website.