ANIMAL FARM AS WITNESSED BY MOSES THE RAVEN
Barons Court Theatre
★★★★
“Small in scale but grand in design.”
When George Orwell’s “Animal Farm” was first published eighty years ago, it was hailed as a ‘caustic satire on the rule of the many by the few’ (The Guardian, 1945). The Tribune described it as ‘a gentle satire… on the illusions of an age which may already be behind us’. Nearly a century on, Dov Citron, with his concise and punchy interpretation of the fable, demonstrates that the ‘age’ referred to is still very much around us, in some form or another. Told through the eyes of Moses the Raven, it is a story of hope and dreams; of corruption and bold-faced lies; of leaders who should know better, and of those who trust but who are wrong to do so. It is a sad fact that this all sounds so contemporary. In fact, Citron muses that it is – indeed – a reflection ‘not just of then, but of now too’.
This could easily make for a dreary and depressing evening. But not so in Citron’s hands as he guides us through the rise and fall of Animal Farm, becoming its animals and humans through a blend of physical theatre and storytelling. A born raconteur, he has the chameleon-like quality to shapeshift into the various animals, and the charisma to juxtapose human qualities onto these beasts, creating characters that are all too recognisable in today’s political climate. He could do with reining in some of the animal noises perhaps, but then again, he has his sights on touring this show to schools and festivals. But otherwise, the show is perfect fodder for the grittier edge of the fringe. The audience are very much immersed in his world. Citron bursts onto the pre-set as a convincing drunk; a farmer fallen on hard times seeking solace in his jug of beer. The pub bore, he stumbles and staggers through the rows of seats. Minutes later he is unrecognisable as the formidable, Marxist Old Major calling for the overthrow of the humans that run the farm. The next he is the fawning Snowball; the exiled and smeared victim of Citron’s bowler-hatted Napolean: the true villain of the piece. Defaming his opponents, clumsy in oration, changing the rules to suit his own agenda, taking undue credit, engaging in underhand trading and dodgy deals. Although Citron keeps the accents regional and quintessentially English, we can’t avoid references to what is happening across the pond.
But politics aside, the interpretation of the story is engaging; focusing on the psychological instead of relying on blatant political commentary. Directed by Victoria Waddington, the pacing is measured, increasing in tempo as it reaches the conclusion that feels a touch premature. There is a sadness to the final moments as Citron witnesses the events from the Raven’s perspective. Detached and resigned, he fails to distinguish the humans from the animals – both equally self-serving and corrupt. It’s not an easy journey but, fractured and unsettling as it is, Citron still finds room for humour along the way. He is adept at creating light and shade. Comedy effortlessly sits among the weightier monologues.
Terry ‘Tex’ Gibbon’s minimalist set fits well into the confines of the intimate basement space. A slatted backdrop – half farmyard fence, half tablet of covenant – display the seven commandments that inform the animal’s revolution. As Napolean and his subservient ‘pigs’ revise these commandments, Citron rotates the slats, revealing the revised mandates. To avoid accusations of law-breaking; change the laws. Simple. Why has nobody thought of that before?
Orwell’s tale still burns with relevance eighty years later, of which Citron’s adaptation is a humble yet poignant reminder. It is both an ambitious project, and one with ambitions. Small in scale but grand in design. It is itching to reach a wider audience, and we feel sure that, very soon, it will exceed its own expectations. An urgent, entertaining and fascinating production.
ANIMAL FARM AS WITNESSED BY MOSES THE RAVEN
Barons Court Theatre
Reviewed on 29th September 2026
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Steve Thewis
