The National Theatre's production of The Seagull directed by Katie Mitchell left me with conflicting feelings.

The most striking thing about the production was the enormous set: a slightly shabby country mansion of a retired, ailing civil servant, Sorin, complete with peeling paintwork and windows misty with dust. The action seems to mainly take place outside the main rooms, on the porch, in corridors or in the garden, adding to the image of a disjointed family with little interest in each other and plenty of secrets from all. Unfortunately, the movement of the cast around this echoing space sometimes contributes to lines being lost or muffled.

As far as the cast goes, Juliet Stevenson (Arkadina) clearly stands out from the rest and frequently carries the whole play with her portrayal of a selfish, possessive, tight-fisted city actress who's desperate to hold on to her youth and sees everyone including her own son as a threat. Truly it takes an actress to play an actress and this is evident in the way Stevenson turns from caring mother to demon to seductress to pitiless miser within a short scene. You'll hate this woman yet love her for her skill.

Also of note is Ben Wishaw (Kostya), who plays the bullied son, desperate for his mother's attention, with an awkward nervousness that strikes such a contrast with Arkadina. His performance naturally begs the comparison to Hamlet and is sustained throughout through his hunched shoulders and stiff movement.

Unfortunately, the play is often played for laughs with the comedy being provided by the rest of the characters. Thus, the tragedy of Masha - her unrequited love for Kostya - is somewhat lost as is the philosophy of doctor Dorn or the lamenting of the disabled Sorin.

The Seagull is an intriguing production with a strong leading cast and an engaging set but do not expect a roaring finale with a clear indication of "when to clap". It is a glimpse of real life, with no beginning or end and no heavenly justice appropriately dispensed. It succeeds in making one think, which, after all, is surely its main purpose.

The Seagull runs until July 23 at the National Theatre, Southbank.

Igor Smirnoff