What is the worst punishment for a woman who commits adultery in her husband’s house? As the title suggests, Thomas Heywood’s play, A Woman Killed With Kindness, sees the ultimate punishment not through hatred or violence, but through gentle kindness. Katie Mitchell returns once again to the National Theatre as Associate Director to bring about the downfall of the women within Heywood’s A Woman Killed With Kindness. It almost seems fitting that one of the most celebrated of female directors should also be the one to explore the femininity within Heywood’s masculine-driven text.

A Woman Killed With Kindness focuses on two separate families, one attempting to survive as they have to use their inheritance to bail the male figure out of prison, spinning them into ever deepening dept; the other newlyweds attempting to forge their family together – but temptation and seduction lead the wife astray. It is for the most part a relatively simple story, with an inevitable ending. From the moment Heywood’s play opens, it is destined to spiral into the tragic downfall, one that Mitchell makes full use of in her stylistic direction and often apocalyptic scene changes.

As usual with any National Theatre production, and especially Mitchell’s work, the production values of A Woman Killed With Kindness are exceptional. Designers Lizzie Clachan and Vicki Mortimer cut the Lyttelton’s theatre stage in two to represent the two homes of the families. A defining feature has to be the use of staircases and doors, which Mitchell continually demands her cast to run up and down, in and out with such speed and commitment that it is wonderful that nothing goes wrong. Jon Clark’s superb lighting helps to define the two spaces within the stage and to continually prompt the audience in where to follow the narrative.

As the adulteress, Anne, Liz White is a curious performer for the best part of the play. White seems oddly distant to her fellow performers, and whilst this is clearly a directional choice, there is something that really fires up White when she is uncovered as not as innocent as she first appears. White’s cries of despair at being abandoned are electrifying. Anne’s husband John, played by Paul Ready, is a fine and wholesome character, performed excellently, especially when uncovering his wife’s dirty deeds. As the debt-ridden Sir Charles Mountford, Leo Bill packs in a commendable performance, but it is Sandy McDade as Susan, the ghostly sister, who seems to haunt the Lyttelton’s stage. Mitchell crafts her into a fine, underplayed but superbly symbolic character, whose attempts at waiting patiently are chilling.

Whilst A Woman Killed With Kindness makes for an enjoyable evening, there is a distinct feel that Heywood’s text doesn’t quite live up to the visual creation of Mitchell’s imagination. The scene changes, which see the cast mechanically moving through the stage, removing props and scenery in clockwork fashion, are exceptional, yet there are numerous instances where the characters don’t quite gel together.

At two hours long, having been originally billed as two and a half hours, the character development seems rather rushed without an interval. John speaks of his bedchamber being polluted and his determination to never seen his wife again, but within fifteen minutes he rushes to her sickbed and accepts her apology. Equally, the illicit love affair seems to manifest without the slightest glimmer of seduction. Whilst the characters are solid, the journey for us as an audience seems to be left behind. I worry too that whilst Mitchell has a knack at creatively working with her team to energise classical texts (Heywood wrote A Woman Killed With Kindness in the sixteen hundreds) by doing so, Mitchell will also alienate traditionalists.  Like any Mitchell piece it’s a love it or hate it affair, and I am left pondering how much I really did enjoy.

It’s not that A Woman Killed WIth Kindness is a mediocre production, for this is far from the truth, but there is a sense that not everything adds up. It’s like an uneasy feeling within the pit of your stomach when you know you’re about the watch something gruesome. Mitchell has the ability to convey a certain atmosphere, style or method, but Heywood’s text can’t quite cope. Whilst I also enjoyed the contemporary and often bizarre simultaneous action and timings taking place on the stage, it could be seen as distracting, and diluting the dialogue, especially in the instance of the character of Susan as she silently contemplates sucidie with a rope as another scene manifests itself in the other household. Overall I’m not entirely convinced, but it won’t stop me going back for more Mitchell – I just wonder if she best shines when working with more contemporary work.

A Woman Killed With Kindness is playing at the National Theatre until 11th September. For more information and to book see the National Theatre’s website here.