Sophocles and Euripides tell the story of Electra in 90 minutes: Giraudoux in his 1937 version takes an incredible three hours. But though the play is a bit of a stretch, Erica Whyman's production in the Gate Theatre's season of adapted Greek myths is sufficiently well acted to keep your attention.
What does Giraudoux add to the familiar myth? Partly the idea that the heroine, still mourning the death of Agamemnon, is to be married off to an Argive gardener. More intriguingly, Giraudoux suggests there is something deeply incestuous about Electra's passion for her unexpectedly returning brother, Orestes.
But the author also lets us know that his heroine is committed to ideals of "tenderness and justice" that transcend national frontiers at a time when the Argive state is under threat. Presumably this was a coded message to his fellow Frenchmen in the fevered 1930s.
But whatever political resonance the play may have had once is largely lost on us today. There is also something contradictory about Electra's message: "Justice" demands the death of her father's killers while "tenderness" would seem to imply the application of mercy.
And, though there are powerful scenes, such as Electra's realisation of her mother's guilt, Giraudoux smothers much of the action under abstract speculation. Matters are also not helped by Winifred Smith's translation: when a local law officer says to his errant wife "collect yourself, Agatha", he sounds like Robertson Hare in an old Aldwych farce.
What makes the evening is the stylish presentation. Soutra Gilmour has designed an excellent set dominated by two lily ponds.
And the acting is first rate. Lucy Briers gives Electra herself a fiery moral indignation. Joanna McCallum is a domineering Clytemnestra who savours a long speech justifying female deception. And Grant Gillespie is impressive as a choric beggar who, clad in striped blazer and white flannels, looks as if he opens the batting for the Corinthian Casuals. It is very well done even if it proves, as Mae West once said, a Frenchman takes his time.
· Until November 15. Box office: 020-7229 0706