‘Animal Farm’ review
‘I cannot emphasise enough how strong each actor is and how impactful they are as a collective […] The Woodplayers’ tribute to Orwell’s bleak dystopian future, humming the tune of capitalist realism, is well worth it.’
Walking into the Collingwood Woodplayers’ auditorium, you’re greeted with wispy smoke, littered hay bales, and an arena-like stage that places the audience in four corners — surrounding the cast right in the centre. It’s with this key choice that Director Robyn Bradbury and Assistant Director Damien Smith cleverly immerse you in the passion and anxiety of Animal Farm and the sticky troughs of pig-led revolution. With four exits and entrances, you sit amongst the characters as they weave in and out, a staging decision that suggests our complicity; whether as man or animal, the lines remain deliciously, and thematically relevantly, blurry.
Produced by Olivia Kaye and Damola Amusa (and shadow produced by Kris Varghese), the Woodplayers’ rendition of George Orwell’s dystopian beast fable features an impressively strong ensemble cast who give everything to their roles. They work as an organic unit, regurgitating standardised chants of folk song (‘four legs good, two legs bad’) as an assertion of individual and collective animal identity in the face of human oppression. The blocking sees them often touching and stacking on top of one another with a variety throughout the show that keeps the simple set constantly engaging. It’s a competitive frenzy of gradually building choruses, culminating in a truly chilling climax that shakes with every single animal’s desperate conviction. Caught up in the swell of voices and the chaotic rush of well-choreographed barnyard brawls, the audience sits transfixed.
Leading the play with iron hooves are the trio of pigs, Napoleon (Mwambu Haimbe), Squealer (Claudia Schreuder), and the compelling idealist Snowball (Leon Perry-Masey), who play off each other with an electric chemistry. The oscillation of the other animals’ opinions feels understandable when faced with their distinctive command and complete ownership of their beliefs. Schreuder’s Squealer is played excellently with a quiet, terrifying calm much unlike her name. She’s level-headed and efficient in the art of gaslighting where Snowball and Napoleon are prone to outbursts.
Haimbe’s Napoleon is a standout performance; unreserved in his anger and passion, he physically owns the space. This expands across the play, clear in his assertive pounding of boxes and self-congratulatory laughter. Costume designer Damien Smith’s choice to dress the animals in the same clothes as men with no clear beastly identifiers drives home Orwell’s allegory, especially as Napoleon accumulates items of clothing (which includes a new tie and coat). A commendable blocking choice sees Napoleon and Squealer often occupying the fringes, surrounding the group and physically imposing themselves through standing on boxes or breaching personal boundaries.
Another unequivocal standout is Dan Katsande, whose dual-role of wisened leader Old Major and the young Boxer shows off his wide range. Brimming with determined fervour, he plays the nuance of wavering trust and relenting belief with such genuine feeling that you’re decidedly on his side throughout. Matthew Lo’s Mr. Jones moves with a caricatural physical grotesqueness, making the animals seem that much more “civilised” in comparison. Additionally, with a great big love for ribbons – so much so that she sings about it – Nancy Beascanon’s Mollie is a delight.
With Evie Collins as Production Manager and Moksh Bora as Stage Manager (with assistance from Aakash Jeph), Animal Farm is also solid technically. Even when faced with venue issues, the team came back from unforeseen chaos with a seamless production on all fronts. Especially effective was the use of projectors, which in one instance, avoiding spoilers, felt like a clever nod to Orwell’s 1984. Zac Jackson’s lighting design (with spotlights and harsh darkness) facilitated the serious tone of the play; towards the end, one scene bathes the audience in blood-red light whilst the animals occupy a starkly lit centre. Similarly, Andrew Mullins’ sound design provided effective drama.
The only thing I wished out of the play – which I acknowledge is impossible – was the ability to see everyone’s faces. Ensemble members tended to be grouped at similar sides of the audience throughout, which meant that I saw some facial performances more than others. I cannot emphasise enough how strong each actor is and how impactful they are as a collective; choose a good seat and go see Animal Farm. The Woodplayers’ tribute to Orwell’s bleak dystopian future, humming the tune of capitalist realism, is well worth it.
By Ashley Zhou.