With wide eyes and mouth grimly set, the soothsayer offers his prediction: “You shall outlive the lady whom you serve,” he says, much to the horror of Charmian, Cleopatra’s lady-in-waiting. Speaking in British Sign Language (BSL), our soothsayer (William Grint) creates a serpentine image, his arm sharp and jutting, his fingers forked by Charmian’s throat.
The Egyptian queen’s court communicates in BSL in Blanche McIntyre’s bilingual production – with associate direction from Charlotte Arrowsmith and BSL consultancy from Daryl Jackson – while the Romans perform in spoken English. Subtitles appear on screens around the wooden O. Far from being distracting, they offer a strong case for such visual aids becoming a permanent fixture in the theatre.
Giving physical shape to Shakespeare’s language offers an additional way in to his storytelling, not only making the text more accessible but frequently lending clarity to character and further depth to description. Entendres are doubled with the layering of BSL over spoken English too; when a messenger (a sparkling Nadeem Islam) reports to the jealous queen that Mark Antony’s new wife’s hair is brown, he performs the action of squeezing out a particularly stubborn poo.
Nadia Nadarajah is a regal Cleopatra. Obsessive and quick to temper, she is rash and romantic, sweeping across the stage to profess her love for the slimy Mark Antony (John Hollingworth), despite deserving far better than his tactical cheating and selfish attempt at murder. The chemistry between them takes effort to see; they are much stronger in their characters alone than they are together. Their intimacy is most apparent when Antony shakes loose his rigid arrogance and signs to Cleopatra what he would yell at anyone else.
In the second half of the play, Shakespeare is preoccupied with the men at war, as Antony and Caesar stomp their feet and argue over the future of empire. All heavy drums and the slow-mo clashing of swords, these scenes hold less energy than the more domestic moments in court. For this production belongs to the women. All eyes are on Cleopatra and her loving, giggling servants, who are ready to respond to her every dramatic whim, desperate to put the “odd worm” to their own chest rather than live without their queen.
• At Globe theatre, London, until 15 September
