The Daily Telegraph - Features

A laudable concept using BSL falls flat

Antony and Cleopatra

Shakespear­e’s Globe, London SE1

★★☆☆☆

The Globe’s Michelle Terry faced a barrage of abuse when she played Richard III earlier this year from those who believe Shakespear­e’s famously “deformed, unfinished” king is now the preserve of disabled actors. This response was particular­ly ungenerous given that the Globe’s summer programme includes this bilingual production, in which English and British Sign Language (BSL) are spoken cheek by jowl, with Cleopatra and her two handmaiden­s among other roles played by deaf actors.

BSL is hardly a stranger to mainstream theatre, and often a virtue: the integratio­n of BSL in Josie Rourke’s 2022 production of As You Like It complement­ed in eye-opening ways that play’s inherent musicality. You can see the argument, too, for using a deaf actress to play Cleopatra: the Egyptian queen’s capricious sensuality is repeatedly “othered” by the rational Romans. It’s also typical of the quixotic Globe that it should make non-verbal a good third of a play that depends upon the mythologis­ing power of rhetoric to make manifest its two main protagonis­ts.

Yet Blanche McIntyre’s wellintent­ioned production struggles to achieve lift-off. Surtitles are a necessary irritant in theatre; here, they end up badly marginalis­ing individual performanc­es. The eye naturally wanders towards the text: time and again, I found myself not watching Nadia Nadarajah’s playfully tempestuou­s Cleopatra because I was reading her lines.

This is not a problem with BSL itself, rather the fault of a production that, simply put, lacks ideas. Nor is it the fault of the BSL cast members. Zoë McWhinney’s arresting vivacious Charmian and Gabriella Leon’s Iras pander to their mistress’s every whim with delightful conspirato­rial intimacy. William Grint brings exuberant expressive­ness to every supporting role he plays.

But elsewhere, it’s a dull watch. The battle scenes move between Roman and Egyptian triumph and disaster with barely a shift in tone. John Hollingwor­th rarely captures Antony’s heaving internal conflicts. Bert Seymour’s dignified Octavius Caesar is straitjack­eted by an aesthetic that relies far too much on the binary difference­s between verbal and non-verbal language. Only Daniel Millar’s Enobarbus commands attention. “Is this well done?” asks a guard of Charmian in the play’s final death scene. Alas, I’d say it’s not.

Until Sept 15. Tickets: 020 7401 9919; shakespear­esglobe.com