The Ancient Greeks - gods bless 'em - were good at a lot of things, but very bad at feminism. I would be inclined to let them off, and it is here that I differ with Margaret Atwood. Her novel, The Penelopiad, retells Homer's Odyssey through the eyes of the hero's wife, Penelope. Adapted for stage it makes a powerful and sympathetic piece of theatre, perhaps with the occasional whiff of cant.

That was perhaps inevitable in an all-female production of a female-centric tale. On a stage of shining black stone, lit by pools of stark light, Penny Downie's Penelope speaks to us from the grave. Downie's performance is nothing if not actorly, at times, perhaps, a little too histrionic - but she admirably does the job of anchoring the show: a strong, still, sardonic presence around which the myth unravels in a swirl of song, dance and the occasional, perfectly-judged special effect.

Penelope's take on the Odyssey is, in fact, pretty close to the standard. Atwood refrains from wholly wrecking the mythic paragon. The meeting of minds that is her relationship with Sarah Malin's fascinating, unreadable Odysseus (which Homer makes, in a few lines, one of the great loves of literature) is shown in all its tender glory before exposed to cruel and truthful analysis. Penelope finds herself trapped in a world where women are sold in marriage as pieces of meat.

Yet the real villains are the traitor women - Helen of Troy, enslaved by men's delight in her beauty, and Eurycleia, Odysseus's too faithful nurse.

And the heroes? In Homer, Penelope's maids connive with her suitors and are killed on Odysseus's return. Atwood's one invention is to make these maids Penelope's tragically misunderstood decoys - a loyal sisterhood for their chaste mistress. It's unconvincing plotting but the chorus, as maids, suitors and sailors, make it work.

In the main action, they camp it up as comic book villains of gross masculinity. In the interludes, their simple but beautifully presented movement captivates, as songs of slavery and oppression make us reconsider this great myth through the eyes of the faceless, despised bystanders.

• Until 18 August. Information: 0844 8001100, www.rsc.org.uk.