★★★

“solid and captivating”

Anna Anderson (born Franziska Schanzkowska in 1896) famously claimed to be the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna – the youngest daughter of Nicholas II, the last Tsar of Russia. The fact that she was supposed to have been murdered, along with the rest of the whole family, by Bolshevik revolutionaries cast doubt on her claim, but she stood her ground until the end. It was only after her death that DNA evidence proved once and for all that there was no match, and none of the Tsar’s daughters survived the massacre. This is no spoiler; Royce Ryton’s 1978 play “The Anastasia File” was also written before this, and consequently the conclusion is left open.

The play begins in 1920, when a young woman is pulled from a canal following a failed attempt to take her own life. Deeply troubled and apparently suffering from memory loss, she is placed in an institution while doctors and the police try to establish who she is. Convincingly portrayed by Jenny Seagrove, the woman is initially fearful of any human communication or contact, but as she is slowly and carefully coaxed out of her trauma-induced silence, clues are uncovered that suggest she is much more than she appears to be. It is evident that she is highly educated, fluent in many languages, well connected and privileged. And she possesses much intimate knowledge of the Romanov family that an outsider wouldn’t have. The authorities take her seriously, as do certain relatives of the Tsar’s family; but opinions repeatedly change throughout the play. The audience follow these shifts like a crowd on the centre court at Wimbledon. Is her memory true, or is she just an extremely skilled imposter?

Crucial to Ryton’s interpretation of the saga is the fact that an awful lot of money is at stake. If Anastasia can prove who she really is, there is a huge gold deposit in England waiting for her, left there as an inheritance by the Tsar. Two alleged aunts who visit her in the sanitorium initially recognise her as the daughter, although on discovering this goldmine rapidly change their minds and throw her identity into doubt. Rosie Thomson plays both with a mix of gravity and humour, in addition multi-rolling as various nursemaids and ancillary staff. Ashley D. Gayle adopts many characters too, switching accents and personalities with confidence and panache. Simon Shepherd is the leading investigator, and Anastasia’s closest ally. The chemistry between Seagrove and Shepherd propels the narrative, but doesn’t always lift it into the air, while the mystery never truly grips in director Roy Marsden’s wordy and static staging. The second act picks up the pace as the two protagonists become more animated, but the increase in momentum leads to a slight glossing over of her later years.

The lack of theatricality is mirrored in the sparse set. There is minimal clutter, which does allow the narrative to take centre stage. The story is fascinating in itself, but the performers seem to be relying on this intrinsic interest, rather than using the collective talent on stage to draw us in. It is a demanding play that requires close attention to the words, and we are told a lot and shown little. Shepherd captures well, however, the mix of loyalty and scepticism that his character commands, while Seagrove seizes on moments of aching vulnerability that lie beneath a veneer of arrogance and stubbornness.

We are left to make up our own minds. Even if we know the historical facts of the outcome, the show still manages to end on a question mark, which ultimately makes for an intriguing evening. We are given both sides of the story, with no verdict. After show conversations are divided but subdued; a fair reflection of the play itself that lacks tension in an otherwise solid and captivating drama.

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.

Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

THE ANASTASIA FILE

★★★

UK Tour

THE ANASTASIA FILE

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★

“solid and captivating”

THE ANASTASIA FILE

Theatre Royal Windsor

Reviewed on 30th September 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Simon Vail

THE ANASTASIA FILE

THE ANASTASIA FILE

THE ANASTASIA FILE

ANIMAL FARM AS WITNESSED BY MOSES THE RAVEN

★★★★

Barons Court Theatre

ANIMAL FARM AS WITNESSED BY MOSES THE RAVEN

Barons Court Theatre

★★★★

“Small in scale but grand in design.”