There’s not really much point in pondering too long on what makes Carmen one of the most popular operas ever written. First performed in 1875, Bizet’s opera has brilliant tunes that sing themselves in the mind way after they’ve been heard; a tragic storyline of passion, betrayal and love going all wrong; and it’s set in sunny Spain. What’s not to like? But it wasn’t always so.

A quarter of the way through the 21st century, at which point Carmen has notched up countless performances all over the world, it’s hard to believe that three quarters into the 19th century, its first outing didn’t meet with instant success. ‘Things were different then and it was controversial, not what people expected,’ says Zurich-based opera director Andreas Homoki, whose new production for Paris’ Opéra-Comique comes to Edinburgh for three performances. ‘The role of women in society was conventionally subdued. Women in opera became tragic victims in their resistance against men. Of course, Carmen is killed at the end, but she’s different: she acts at a level that’s the same as a man, if not higher. She’s very strong.’

Whether that strength evidenced itself in Carmen’s earthy eroticism or having the gall to present women smoking on stage, it wasn’t generally to the liking of Opéra-Comique’s original audiences. While the fiery, free-spirited eponymous Carmen remains central to the drama, Homoki’s new production turns to the opera house itself for a starring role in his telling of the story. ‘The Opéra-Comique is the birthplace of this piece,’ he says. ‘It’s not comic, of course, but chanson; not requiem-like but jolly holiday. The music is very diverse, with beautiful contrasts, superbly complemented by the texts. It’s ironic, satiric theatre and we’ve taken this and presented it as if in the auditorium.’

This is also shorthand for meaning that there’s no ‘kitschy’ Spanish take on the staging or any romanticised notion of Spain to be seen anywhere. ‘We are concentrating on the characters, who act as if in front of an audience,’ says Homoki. ‘In thinking about the opera, I stood on the Opéra-Comique’s empty stage and thought “this is the place where it happens”. Phantoms of the opera inhabit this old building. Maybe there’s Carmen round a corner, or Micaëla appearing from the side. We’re putting one person on the stage who is sucked up by the opera’s spirit and its 19th-century bourgeois audience.’

That one person becomes the opera’s Don José, set against the bare surrounds of this famous Parisian opera house itself. In premiering the production at Opéra-Comique, the company had its set right there in front of them. For Edinburgh, the old-fashioned brick wall at the back of that Paris stage is recreated. ‘What you will see is the empty stage of the Opéra-Comique. Then the story evolves as a homage to theatre and especially the Opéra-Comique.’

As a musician, Homoki also wants the audience not only to hear the music, but to see it, whether in the libretto’s dialogue, based on Prosper Mérimée’s 1845 novella, or in the energy and emotion of Bizet’s score. ‘There are so many beautiful moments,’ Homoki says, softly singing ‘Je t’aime’ down the phone line. ‘This is followed by the weirdest anharmonic interval that cuts into it like a knife: “no, you don’t love me,” says Carmen. “If you did, you would follow me.” The way this is set is incredible.’

What happens next is the irony of hearing Escamillo, a new lover in town, singing his famous ‘Toreador Song’ from the back of the stage. ‘“Fuck you” is the message,’ says Homoki. ‘What Carmen is saying is that she’ll go with this other man. It’s so clever musically and dramatically. From the very first moment, superstar bullfighter Escamillo is her man. The concentration of these four main characters (Carmen, Micaëla, Don José and Escamillo) is why you can’t tell this story in a realistic way. These characters relate to each other and create something incredible. You need this one step away to make a show about the show; about the opera.’

As the story takes its course, the production jumps forward in time to Germany’s occupation of Paris in the 1940s, with Don José once more becoming the man we met at the beginning. At the very end, things move even further forward to today’s world, switching on the bullfighting on TV, just like watching the football. ‘It’s a timeless story,’ says Homoki, ‘and when you’re working on it, the best opera ever. And even when not, it’s definitely one of the top five.’

Carmen, Festival Theatre, 4 August, 6pm; 6, 8 August, 7pm.