Popular among the revolutionary animal-comrades who rise up against tyranny in George Orwell’s 1945 classic is the chant: “Four legs good, two legs bad.” It refers to the banning of all bipeds – humans in particular – on their farm after the overthrow of the violent farmer, Mr Jones, and his tyranny.
So how does that work in stage enactments when the animals are represented by humans, who very much walk on two legs?
Where previous adaptations have often employed masks, animation or puppetry in addition to actors, director Amy Leach’s bracingly modern production goes its own way – with astounding results. There is a keen physicality to it all, and the interplay of human and animal foreshadows animal behaviour that attempts to emulate humanness. British Sign Language, interwoven into the drama, brings an elemental power. Limbs are smeared with mud, and the choreography is earthy, scrum-like, conveying the sweat and toil of these animals as they reconstruct the farm.
Tatty Hennessy’s bold yet elegant adaptation does not just carry Orwell’s critique of Stalinist Russia, and the book’s eternal message on the corrupting nature of power, but also bears resonances of the here and now: how the slow erosion of commonly held values marks the onset of authoritarianism, how seductive strong leadership can be in a time of crisis, and how we collude with toxic leaders by believing their lies.
Every element of the staging coalesces into a perfect whole. Hayley Grindle’s set design is two-tiered, with the farmhouse above – sleekly modern, made of glass – and farmland below, which visually sets up the analogy of a tiered social system on the farm. Khalil Madovi’s sound design and electronic compositions are thrilling, along with Kane Husbands’ movement, which captures the characters’ animal natures without ever caricaturing them. Actors squeal, snort, whinny and occasionally get on all fours, but never in blunt or exaggerated ways. You believe in them completely.
Jai Morjaria’s lighting works with sound and movement to enact emotional and physical violence. Grindle’s costumes are not obvious – there are no feathers, fur or tails – and it is initially difficult to tell the animals apart, but the subtlety becomes a strength.
Leach has assembled a remarkable company of actors who not only dramatise Orwell’s political message but the tragedy, too, as characters struggle to build the utopia they have dreamed of, which is so woefully betrayed by Napoleon and the crew of pigs.
Every performer glitters equally, though some are more glittery than others: Tom Simper as the strategising pig, Squealer, is almost Shakespearean in his cunning. Gabriel Paul, as the hard-working carthorse, Boxer, exudes athleticism and a heroic, Stakhanovite stoicism; the pigs’ betrayal of him is devastating. So is the unravelling of hen Clara, played exquisitely by Brydie Service. Joshua-Alexander Williams brings a superb sense of threat as the attack dog, Blue, while Tachia Newall plays the leader, Napoleon, not as a cartoonish baddie but as an upstanding, seemingly guileless character, as if believing his own lies.
Hennessy even dares to create an additional character – a carrier pigeon on a scooter (Em Prendergast), who delivers morsels of gossip picked up from the neighbourhood; it is like a funny standup skit but with a dark, nasty edge.
You feel these characters’ stories as a human tragedy and the entire show pulsates with an immaculate and brilliant modernity. A must-see.
• At Theatre Royal Stratford East, London, until 8 March, then touring to Leeds Playhouse and Nottingham Playhouse
