A Woman Killed With Kindness

Continuing the apparent tradition of a collective gasp as the curtain rises on a National Theatre production, A Woman Killed With Kindness, directed by Katie Mitchell, presents itself to the audience with another stunning set, designed by Lizzie Clachan and Vicki Mortimer.

Mitchell’s adaptation of Thomas Heywood’s seventeenth century domestic masterpiece brings the play into the turn of the twentieth century world of upstairs/downstairs drama and tragedy. The set itself facilitates the parallels between the two women; Susan waits alone in a darkened, grand yet wearing house for her brother, Charles, who is spending the evening stage left at the Frankford’s celebrating the happy union of John and Anne.

Soon after the joys of the marital bed are sullied on the wedding night, on the other side Susan watches her brother led away in bracelets after a huntsman becomes the inadvertent victim of bravado between Charles and Sir Francis Acton. Wendell brings news of Charles’ imprisonment to the Frankford house where John offers him his home, purse, servants and anything else that takes his fancy – not quite expecting that the one thing not on the menu would catch Wendell’s eye, namely his heavily pregnant wife.

A Woman Killed With Kindness was one of the first plays of its kind to focus its attentions on the tragedies of real people creating a space where master and servant are given equal ground. Nothing gets past the Frankford’s merry band of servants, particularly footman, Nicholas, who instigates the plan of the ‘big reveal’, if you will, in an effort to remain honest and faithful to his master, unlike John’s wife and apparent best friend.

Anne’s adulterous passions are contrasted with quiet Susan, whose familial loyalty with her brother is the root of her own sadness and punishment as, in an attempt to pay off Charles’ bail debts, finds herself betrothed to her eager suitor Sir Francis– who also happens to be Anne’s brother. And thus we have our circular parallels, weaving the web of domestic tragedy tighter around the rafters of these two grand houses.

But while debts may be wiped clean, Charles’ shameless pimping has left its mark on poor Susan, but at least she gets to keep the house. And after being caught in flagrante with her husband’s best friend, Anne finds herself banished from the marital home and torn away from her children, although she avoids being branded a whore. But sometimes such kindness can become the titular deathly blow, a notion both women learn the hard way.

The choreography and staging is almost cinematic; curtains blow, the sun rises and time passes with overlaid performances as time stands still for one amidst the bustle, to slow motion and fast forwarding performances as the characters dance through life – a useful device for a two hour play with no interval. Gawn Grainger brings a likeable, gentle humour to Nicholas while Liz White and Paul Ready’s chemistry combines the right amount of burgeoning passion to erupt into hysteria in the play’s climax where both actors are given their time to shine.

A Woman Killed With Kindness is a beautifully styled play, perfectly complimented by the talents on stage who expertly invoke the ever undulating emotions of happiness, distaste and pity in Heywood’s play, and also of everyday life.

A Woman Killed With Kindness is running until September 11 at:

National Theatre
South Bank
Waterloo
SE1 9PX

Tel: 020 7 452 3000