It's probably no surprise that the field of science is historically riddled with sexist men taking credit for women's discoveries.

But when crestfallen student Cecilia is told to drop her theory about stars being made of hydrogen and helium by a professor who later writes up the idea while barely crediting her - it drew a gentle gasp on press night.

Maureen Beattie plays the formidable Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, one of legions of pioneering women who deserve better renown.

Annie Kingsnorth and Steffan Cennydd in The Lightest ElementAnnie Kingsnorth and Steffan Cennydd in The Lightest Element (Image: Mark Douet)

Stella Feehily goes some way to rescuing her from an historical footnote in Alice Hamilton's solid rather than stratospheric production.

Born in Buckinghamshire in 1900, the brilliant Cambridge-educated astronomer was forced to move to Harvard because Cambridge didn't award degrees to women until 1948.

At the College Observatory, in the other Cambridge, she publishes papers on stars and novae, marries Russian dissident Sergei Gaposchkin, and after two decades of being overlooked, becomes the university's first woman professor.

Maureen Beattie as Cecila Payne-Gagoshkin in The Lightest ElementMaureen Beattie as Cecila Payne-Gagoshkin in The Lightest Element (Image: Mark Douet)

We meet her in 1977 giving a memorial lecture on her hard-fought career, before spooling back to a moment of jeopardy two decades earlier, when a group of men in a room decided whether to award her the Chair of Astronomy.

It's 1956, Macarthyism is rife, and rumours swirl about Cecilia's red leanings as student journalist Sally (Annie Kingsnorth) is pressured by her creepy boyfriend to write a profile piece for Harvard's magazine.

She has an ulterior motive, and the best scenes are of Beattie's irritable, watchful Cecilia duelling affectionately with her take-no-prisoners assistant Rona (Rina Mahoney, excellent) before uncorking her true opinions over a bottle of vodka with Sally.

Kingsnorth delivers a nicely layered performance as the clever but stymied student, who is inspired by the older woman to see fresh possibilities - but must decide whether to betray her.

Julian Wadham is the Prof who tells Cecilia her discovery that the stars are made of the lightest elements is wrong while expecting her to pour the tea: "Don't you know when to be quiet?"

But for the main, underwritten men are reduced to traipsing furniture around Sarah Beaton's black revolve set that is periodically lit with pinpricks of stars.

Feehily introduces underexplored strands about radical politics on campus, and highlights the paradox that it's the outsider who is most likely to challenge scientific orthodoxies, but the least likely to be taken seriously.

But it's steely Cecilia's final exhortation for women to trust their own judgement "don't let anyone shut you up, make some noise ladies!" that offers the night's most stirring moment.

The Lightest Element runs at Hampstead Theatre until October 12th.