Review: 1984, Theatre Royal Bath

It's 75 years since George Orwell's dystopian novel, 1984, was published, but it remains as unerringly relevant and relatable today.

With Alexa listening into our conversations, video doorbells recording what happens on the streets, hate rallies a la Donald Trump, manipulation of events (Newsspeak) to disseminate propaganda, Smartphones collecting data, social media giving rise to Groupthink and the stamping down of individualism, it's the perfect time for Theatre Royal Bath Productions' brilliantly terrifying revival.

Director Lindsay Posner pulls no punches in this chillingly, visceral adaptation by Ryan Craig (who surely will be in the running for an award for his excellent script), made all the more pertinent by an ingenuous, up-to-the-minute, mesh screen where Big Brother's always watching you. The screen is almost another character in the play, feeding back conversations, gestures and actions of those closely observed. It also provides information and data, when requested, in an eery, robotic AI-like fashion.

Mark Quartley, admirable as gaunt and nervy Winston Smith (comrade number 6079), is one of many blue overalled workers at the Ministry of Truth. He rewrites news items (fake news, anybody?) and twists bombings and hangings to suit the agenda of those in power.  He also starts writing in his diary, an illicit act.

Smith does tries to fit in with his neighbour and workmate, Parsons (an enthusiastic David Birrell), who loyally believes in spewing out disgust during obligatory Two Minutes Hate sessions.

Parsons is delighted that refugee boat children waving to helicopters, in hope of rescue, don't realise they'll be blasted out of the water. And he's proud his seven-year-old daughter's reporting on anyone she perceives as suspicious.

Smith falls in love with colleague Julia (warmly played by Eleanor Wyld) and they have forbidden trysts in the woods (The Golden Country) and a safe house provided by Winston's mysterious boss, O'Brien.

A superb Keith Allen steals the show as calmly sinister good cop, bad cop O'Brien. One moment he's giving Smith a banned copy of Hamlet; and the next he's torturing him in Room 101, the latter scene cleverly depicted in total blackness. We only hear what's going on and have to use our imaginations to visualise what's occurring.

Posner's tight control of the play mirrors the tight control by secret police and shadowy practices. He uses technology to enhance the tension rather than pull us out of the play, which happens all too often when multi-media is employed in productions.

Justin Nardella – head of set, costume and video design – should be congratulated for sticking to a starkly simple plan that contrasts with slick, modern on-screen techniques. And lighting by Paul Pyant, ranging from warm and golden to grey and hopeless, is equally commendable.

A disconcerting soundscape (compiled by sound designer Giles Thomas) of ghost-like children and sweet songs from Winston's mother is hugely effective and evocative. It expresses the authoritarian adage that "who controls the past controls the future", with both fighting inside Smith's addled brain.

There are plenty of surprises in this first-rate play, including characters cropping up in pre-recorded footage. Keep an eye out for Finbar Lynch's Goldstein, Zubin Varla as Syme, Nicholas Woodeson's spine-chilling Big Brother and Janie Dee's Woman.

Posner firmly steers the narrative (literally) via a camera panning over and zooming into the audience at the start and finish of the show, reminding us of the surveillance society we live in now and why we need to resist oppression of this kind.

For those concerned about the brutal nature of the material (we're not talking joyous, high-stepping musical here), mercifully, there's a glimmer of hope. There's love as well as hate in this tremendous production of a timeless masterpiece that shouldn't be missed.

1984 runs at Theatre Royal Bath until September 28 and then tours

Photo credit: Simon Annand

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