Review: ANIMAL FARM, Stratford East

Some animals are more equal than others, that we know. Some are pets, some we eat, some rape and abuse before they go into politics. George Orwell rarely rings untrue these days and Animal Farm remains his most immediate allegory. When his group of farm animals rebel against the owner who exploits them, they hope a better life will begin. They want freedom and equality, but they end up under the dictatorship of a pig called Napoleon. Look at the news and read into that what you will.

Amy Leach directs Tatty Hennessy’s adaptation of Orwell’s shockingly relevant novella, exploring greed and corruption in a sophisticated production that integrates British Sign Language. It’s essential viewing in the current political climate.

It’s tense and intense, it’s Animal Farm like you’ve never seen before. Breathless commentary blends into edge-of-your-seat action sequences and stark chiaroscuro tableaux. Leach curates a stunning system of imagery, constructing intricate visuals that come alive with Jai Morjaria’s exquisite lighting. From the slow-motion violence to the final burst (which is very Last-Supper-at-the-end-of-the-world, if we had to describe it), this project is a feast of subtext. 

It begins with a scene that PETA would go mad for. Whilst a marketer describes the idylls found in the bucolic English countryside, with its fields of green, white sheep and pondering horses, the crude reality of industrial farming plays out. Exploited and overburdened, the animals toil endlessly under Famer Jones, who sits in his ivory farmhouse, cracking his whip, ripping babies from their mothers. It’s brutal and cruel, superbly effective in setting up the rebellion.

After their first beast-like introduction, the animals gather to discuss their grievances, peacefully led by Old Major (Everal A Walsh). We know what comes next, justly enraged, they plot and plan. It all unfolds with magnetic, gritty storytelling that relies on a precise direction and an impeccable ensemble performance. All actors are equal - full stop, no compound. A disquieting glint appears in Tachia Newall’s eye as his Napoleon seizes power, while Tom Simper, his skin marked as meat cuts, portrays Squealer as a sycophantic minion who’s puppeteering the coup. Their relationship becomes Shakespearean in its intensity. 

Other highlights in the cast: Brydie Service as Clara the hen (her crushing her eggs out of fear is a simply remarkable moment) and Gabriel Paul as Boxer, who indirectly questions the nature and meaning of labour; Em Prendergast’s exciting rendition of Milo the pigeon in all their gossipy attitude, and David Nellist’s Benjamin, who quietly steals the show every time he reads the revised commandments to the illiterate horse Clover (an empathetic, heartbreaking Tianah Hodding).

Though the rise of an opportunistic leader and his sleazy stooge is streaming live on our screens, it doesn’t look nearly as good as Hayley Grindle’s design does. She strips Stratford East off completely, leaving only the naked cement as the backdrop for a rusty, industrial-looking set. Chain-link cages and an array of enclosures lurk in the wings, while the farmer’s glass house looms on top. The darkened steel beams and alcoves of the structure offer an abundance of opportunities, and Morjaria grabs each of them to create a hair-raising atmosphere.

This is a complete, cohesive piece that does what theatre should do in times of crisis. It’s alluring and alarming, thoroughly entertaining and thought-provoking, visually gorgeous, and masterfully directed. Some productions are more invigorating than others.

Animal Farm runs at Stratford East until 8 March before embarking on a limited UK tour.

To post a comment, you must register and login.