In a new adaptation of Orwell’s seminal classic, Theatre Royal Bath productions bring their take on 1984 to Liverpool’s Playhouse. Adapted for stage by Ryan Craig and directed by Lindsay Posner, the meticulous design of the piece means as soon as you enter the auditorium, you step into the authoritative, totalitarian world in which our characters cannot escape. Setting up the Playhouse as a panopticon is an exciting start to a story that has thrilled audiences since first being published in 1949. Sadly, once the houselights dim, the thrill that Orwell constructed is slowly deflated by a meandering, technology-reliant production.
It is a truly difficult task to adapt a text that is held up as a modern classic, that the majority of the population has read before they reach their mid-twenties. We know the twist, the reveal – we know how this one ends. There is surely an extra amount of work involved in the adaptation of such a text, as the stakes need to be set immediately, convincing us to go on this journey once again, even though we’re already sure the destination is a sad one. Unfortunately, the silent terror and unease, the steady depression created so succinctly by Big Brother is simply lacking on stage from the get go. While the actors are immersed – thanks in part to the enveloping video and set design – the supposed key moments don’t set the stakes high enough. The two minutes of hate, or the coveting of writing in a notebook; I don’t believe these moments are life and death. Of course, the heart-wrenching climax of the second half is a cautionary tale for the production itself: what we create in our own imaginations is a hundred times scarier than anything that can be presented to us in real time.
This is not to say the production doesn’t have some strong elements. Mark Quartley, playing Winston Smith, has an impossibly hard task as an actor as he plays against video screens must bring his depressed character to see the light in the space of thirty minutes. His performance in the second half of the show is truly phenomenal, and himself and Keith Allen as O’Brien are electric together as they battle their realities against each other. The Brechtian decision to leave the wings and set pieces in sight is also effective: everything is seen and watched in this world. Eleanor Wyld does a fine job too; despite the fact her Julia is written only as a device for Winston’s story to become propulsive.
While it wasn’t breathtaking, overall, 1984 does prove a great night at the theatre with its impressive set and design and the urgency in which the story unfolds. While there are moments of stagnancy at the beginning, the tension in the second half is felt palpably in the audience. I commend the tight cast and the heights they achieve, and while I don’t believe this adaptation fully hits the mark, I must say I’m glad of the comfort that I took in being in the land of the audience rather than the land of Room 101, the Thought Police, and Big Brother. How far off one is from the other is certainly debatable, but for the duration of this piece at least, I was glad of my position as an audience member only.
1984 runs at the Playhouse until Saturday the 23rd of November.
Reviewer: Anna Ní Dhúill
Reviewed: 19th November 2024
North West End UK Rating: