By William Shakespeare. Directed by Anita Rochon. A Studio 58 production, presented in association with the Chop Theatre. At Studio 58 on Saturday, October 3. Continues until October 18

Seeing a new star hurtling toward you full of light is one of the thrills of going to the theatre. Camille Legg, who’s playing Romeo in this production, is that kind of star.

Director Anita Rochon has had her way with Shakespeare’s script, the title of which she renders as Romeo + Juliet. Rochon sets the action in 1965, in Andy Warhol’s Factory, and it’s an odd fit: Romeo and Juliet is about the romantic idealism of youth, but the Factory was a hangout for speed users, drag queens, and hustlers. In this production, everybody looks innocently tidy in designer Jessica Bayntun’s black-and-white costumes, which would have been more at home on Carnaby Street. And, inexplicably, Andy Warhol steps into the role of the Prince of Verona, even though the Prince is all about civility and Warhol was famously perverse.

To realize her vision, Rochon has hacked away great swaths of exquisite text, including the “palmers” exchange, in which Romeo and Juliet fall in love with one another. In this version, the characters seem to speak the lines, but we can’t hear them because they’re in the middle of such a raucous party.

Still, the director’s approach mostly works. Rochon and choreographer Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg have created beautiful stage pictures and movement sequences. When the body of the young nobleman, Tybalt, is lying on the stage, mourners wordlessly enter and crouch; when they rise again, Tybalt stands and walks off with them. It’s simple, but it’s also one of the all-time best disposals of a Shakespearean corpse. At the end, when Romeo and Juliet are busying themselves with knives and poison, the rest of the cast surrounds the playing area and sings Nancy Tam’s hauntingly spare original music: it’s so tender.

Most importantly, at the heart of the show, there are a bunch of young performers who make sense of the text. Legg’s lesbian Romeo is so eager and openhearted that I defy you not to weep at her death. And Adelleh Furseth (Juliet) is impressive, especially as she negotiates the multilayered scene in which Juliet discovers that her lover has slaughtered her beloved cousin. Brandon Bagg’s portrayal of Laurence, the couple’s confidante, stands out because of its authority, honesty, and restraint.

Conor Stinson-O’Gorman, who’s playing Romeo’s unstable pal Mercutio, could use some of that restraint. The charismatic Stinson-O’Gorman has some keen instincts, which are in full evidence as he unsheathes the beauty of Mercutio’s speech about the fairy Queen Mab, but he overworks other sections. Similarly, Samantha Pawliuk, who plays Nance, this interpretation’s version of Juliet’s nurse, brings heart and sense, but also needs to pull back.

Sometimes Rochon’s staging is sloppy—when Romeo and her pals start chucking balls of tinfoil at one another, for instance.

Still, there’s a fresh interpretation here, and it will break your heart, which is what it’s supposed to do.