[In the following review of the 2002 production of Antony and Cleopatra directed by Michael Attenborough at Stratford-upon-Avon, Gibson contends that Attenborough's extensive textual cuts highlighted two of the drama's themes: “the contrast of Rome and Egypt, and the destructive effects of love.”]

Michael Attenborough has radically cut Shakespeare's sprawling masterpiece to highlight just two of themes, the contrast of Rome and Egypt, and the destructive effects of love.

So out go Sextus Pompeius and his bloodthirsty but shrewd pirates, alert to issues of state. Out goes the conquering but politically-aware Ventidius on the vast plains of Syria. Elsewhere, dialogue is trimmed to deliver a three-hour performance (including an interval) that concentrates on the vexed relationships of the three protagonists.

Sinead Cusack's excellent Cleopatra embodies the passionate, luxury-loving, frivolous and sexualised world of Egypt. That world's addiction to pleasure and excess is sensuously suggested in the opening scene. Astride the half-naked Antony, this Cleopatra massages his body.

In contrast Stephen Campbell-Moore's austere Octavius Caesar is a repressed public schoolboy, ramrod-backed and desperately afraid of any bodily contact. He looks and sounds like Hugh Laurie's empty-headed Blackadder characters, but without the redeeming humour.

Where Cleopatra's Egypt is created by a voluptuously curving set, vivid colours and soft music, Octavius' Rome is hard-edged, black and white. It resounds with blaring martial trumpets.

Caught between these two polar opposites of dissolution and duty, Stuart Wilson's shambling Antony only occasionally suggests the commanding a military figure he once was. But Attenborough's uncompromising cutting ensures that Antony's decline expresses the incompatibility of Rome's masculine restraint and Egypt's relaxed femininity. Love, not war, destroys him.

Although the action is played out before a huge silhouette of the Mediterranean world, the political implications of Shakespeare's play seem strangely subdued. But the gain for students is crystal clarity in showing how the different value systems of Rome and Egypt end in personal tragedy.