Actors appear, one by one. As they enter, a voice speaks over a PA, giving their personal statistics. Some are usual for a performer: height; colour of eyes, of skin; gender. Other stats are less usual: “muscular dystrophy”; “pretty”. Some are bizarre, intrusive: “tea-drinker”; “tattoo” (“It’s on my thigh! “How did they know?”).
These are extras, arrived for a casting for they know not what. They’ve been directed to what the security guard has called “the crip block”, but why? “We don’t look disabled. Why are we here?”
A script falls from the lighting rig, landing in the centre of the newly gathered group. “Romeo and Juliet!” Someone begins to read the prologue. From now on, Shakespeare’s scenes alternate with audition-room interactions.
The play has been adapted by director Jenny Sealey, longstanding artistic director of co-producer Graeae, a company set up more than four decades ago to specialise in spotlighting people whose talents too often are hidden from view.
The concept is clever. Discussing potential casting, the well-matched ensemble explores questions such as how to present characters played by performers who sign but do not speak and cannot hear? One answer is to double roles. This produces theatrically exciting results. Comedy is amplified in the interactions between two out-of-breath Nurses and two impatient Juliets, longing for news of Romeo. Emotions are refracted and magnified when two Romeos discover their seemingly dead Juliets.
Staging choices are not always successful. At times the action feels chaotic. On the round stage, sign interpreters are not always visible to all sections of the audience; however, overhead screens are. These display creative captions that use varied fonts along with cartoon/emoji-style graphics to suggest moods and emotions.
Sealey’s ambitious production is at present uneven in delivery, but where it works it is thrilling. I would very much like to see it taken up and developed further.