1984

For many, George Orwell’s surreal nightmare of society, 1984, ceased to have relevance on Jan 1st 1985. In the years that followed, Big Brother wasn’t watching us, (except in a contrived TV reality show), Doublethink was twice unthinkable (unless you were a social media addict) and Newspeak hadn’t become the reality of mobile phones (though textspeak is more horrific than anything Orwell could have imagined).  Could…or would…anyone’s life and identity be deleted at the press of a button? Yes, and Yes, and the time could not be more pertinent for the re-examination of Orwell’s dark masterpiece. Robert Icke and Duncan MacMillan, as co-adaptors and co-directors, understand that, in a world gone mad, only the crazy can truly know sanity. Their vision, and version, of Orwell’s hell is harrowing, confronting, and at times terrifying. It’s also magnificent theatre that gives us new perspective and insight into Orwell’s overly familiar text.

From the moment Winston writes today’s date into the diary, and it appears, through Big Brother’s electronic eye, on the screen that makes up the top half of the set, we are propelled into the present, and are part of the journey unfolding, whether we like it or not…and even if we rail against it, the confrontation is such that we cannot help but feel – the last thing Big Brother wants – so we are automatically guilty. Chloe Lambert’s stunning set, ranging from the mundane office space juxtaposed with the screen and its room of yesteryear suggesting a 1930s movie, to the stark glaring whiteness of the huge expanse of room 101 (a stunning transformation before our eyes), keeps us constantly off kilter and asking “where are WE now?”

Natasha Chivers astonishing lighting design bombards us, throws us back in our seats, and even frightens and disorientates us at times. We feel individually disconnected, alienated, removed from our own lives, and yet disturbingly in the midst of the lives we follow through Winston Smith’s subversive diary. Doublethink…not just an idea, an actuality within the theatre for actors and audience alike.

Icke and MacMillan don’t play safe, they don’t allow us breathing space, they make us work – just as The Party would make us work. We know in our hearts, just as Winston Smith knows, that our governments, the voices of power, the entire world, is a place that encourages hatred, dullard lack of thinking, distraction and superficiality; and that we are forgetting or, even worse, deriding a past world which was gentler, and kinder. We’ve learned to live with it, but we can’t escape it, and every moment on stage serves to confront us with our own inadequacies….that’s not an easy passage for an audience, and some will not enjoy the trip….but surely entertainment also encompasses being made to think, and made to feel, being pushed to anger, and weeping at the death of humanity? No smart phone, laptop, iPad can stop us connecting on a human level unless we allow it to…and that’s the saddest and scariest thing of all; we DO allow it. The destruction of humanity isn’t being imposed on us, we are willingly enforcing it every day of our lives…..that’s the revelation this new adaptation shows us in the mirror’s blinding light.

There are no “star turns” from any of the cast. Instead they play almost anonymously, serving the truth of the ideas. And yet the performances are marvellous in an unobtrusive way. Matthew Spencer’s Winston lacks charisma…and Winston is all the more real because of it. Tim Dutton’s O’Brien, the Inquisitor, is a nice man, a friendly man, which makes him all the more terrifying as a torturer – and the torture scene is especially horrific. Janine Harouni’s Julia is raw and visceral, intense and nervous beneath the bravura; no doubt aided by the fact that this is her professional stage debut. All of the cast are exemplary, but the biggest praise must go to the creative team and the two directors. They have created a production for now and the future, without disrespecting the past.

We may be The Dead – we may ultimately betray all we hold dear, but somewhere thought and feeling are still alive, and so is meaningful theatre. Far from being a depressing “downer” this is exhilarating in every respect. We should all rejoice at that.

Coral Drouyn