LONDON — A bright and noble passion floods the Jamie Lloyd Company’s ravishing “Cyrano de Bergerac,” starring a fiercely romantic James McAvoy in the title role. Contrary to expectation, it is not the passion of a man for a woman.

Or a woman for a man. Or for that matter, two men for each other, though all these feelings are freshly and revealingly considered in the production at the Playhouse Theater here.

What instead animates and illuminates Martin Crimp’s postmodern retooling of Edmond Rostand’s classic is spelled out for the audience. Literally: Early in the show, while the rest of the cast is performing downstage, a lone actor with a paint brush is quietly daubing seemingly disconnected strokes in black Gothic lettering on a blank white wall.

It takes a while for the markings to assemble themselves into a coherent sentence. But when they do, it’s as if lightning has torn open the night. The statement is a naked and simple confession: “I love words. That’s all.”