We Are Animate presents a smart and snappy Shakespeare – all the power and plotting of the Bard’s historical tragedy in under 90 minutes. The eight strong gender-blind ensemble excels throughout in words and movement. The poetry is clearly spoken with just one Lord misjudging the ability of the intimate space to carry her overly sotto voce delivery. Director Lewis Brown moves his cast well using some dramatic dumb-show elements and funky dance moves between the scenes. A soundtrack (Jordan Wilkes) of disco beats and ambient noise (plus a short snatch of Zadok the Priest) blends well to create mood. The production is beautifully lit too (Jack Channer); an ominous blood-red wash across the space as the audience files in suggests the course of the evening is predetermined.
There is no escaping the importance of the symbol of the hollow crown for it is painted brightly on the movable set blocks and upon the backdrop. A stylish crown – regal and powerful – whilst, at the same time, jaunty and cartoonish.
Which might also go towards describing the King himself. Michael Rivers is a dazzling Richard II dressed to kill in a white suit, crown upon his head. When dressed for war he dons a Superhero breast plate; it’s all for show. He points, gesticulates, swans and shimmies his way around the stage, pouts when displeased. Around him are the Court In-Crowd: the fawning Bushy (Daniel Takefusa), out of sorts Queen Isabella (Nada Babikir), and father and son Duke of York (Lizzy Dive) and Aumerle (Harriet Barrow) both dressed in striking red. Hilary Burns stands out in the role of party pooper John of Gaunt – passionate in the sceptred isle speech – and then doubles as a reliable Bishop of Carlisle. [Note to Stage Manager – please provide Carlisle with a more convincing Bible]. But when Richard exploits the death of Gaunt by depriving Gaunt’s son of his inheritance, he lives (and dies) to regret it.
Enter Richard’s nemesis, Henry Bolingbroke. Fleur De Wit is superb in this role; her femininity a juxtaposition from the manliness we might expect. We see her brain ticking overtime as Henry manoeuvres into position to usurp the crown. By her side is the cold and calculating Lord Northumberland (Daniel Ghezzi) whose sinister delivery judges the atmosphere just right.
This is a cracker of a Shakespeare production. Each scene is lifted by the performances of Rivers and De Wit, ably supported by a strong ensemble. There is ample theatricality within the direction but the emphasis on the poetry shines through. I would happily watch this Richard II again.
George Orwell’s classic fable is brought to the stage, adapted and directed by Robert Icke. The only human character is that of The Farmer – ruddy face, flat cap and wellingtons – who first appears carrying a number of pig carcasses across the stage. The tall outer walls of the farm (Set and Costume design by the award winning Bunny Christie) resemble those of a prison camp with the animals, whose futures are clearly apparent in the farmer’s bloodied apron, securely residing on the other side.
All other characters are the animals which are brought to life by Puppetry Designer and Director Toby Olié’s life-size puppets, handled by a versatile ensemble of fourteen puppeteer-actors.
We hear from Old Major – a pig with a dream – in the first of many regular animal meetings convened in the barn. He explains his vision for a revolutionary future where animals will manage their own affairs free of the exploitation of the Farmer and where all animals will be equal. The animals bleat, grunt, and moo their approval.
With the death of Major soon after, the revolution is triggered, and an exhilarating scene follows as the animals drive out the Farmer to a symphonic soundtrack (Sound Designer and Music Tom Gibbons), using slow-motion cinematic elements to enhance the drama. The movement of the puppets is enthralling to watch as the birds peck, the dog bites, the goat butts, and the pigs charge their way to victory.
The next scene shows the newly liberated animals hard at work bringing in the harvest. The stage is stripped bare to the back wall with effective use of cross lighting (Lighting Designer Jon Clark). With electronic surtitles informing us of the movement of time, the pigs begin to dominate, and Napoleon rises as the pig in charge. His gruff voice and no-nonsense approach show us he is a pig not to be argued with and when he lurches forward in anger, he appears to break free from his own handlers. Sheer puppetry genius.
No animal works harder than Boxer the cart horse. Two metres in height, his puppet takes three handlers to manipulate, and we believe firmly in his weight and his strength. One of the finest scenes is his struggle to continue as weariness overwhelms him and he falls slowly to the ground. The collapse of Boxer is perfectly executed and surprisingly moving.
Bit by bit, the perfection of the revolution is corrupted until by the end no animal can remember Old Major’s dream – “All animals are equal” – but only Napoleon’s revised version: “…but some animals are more equal than others”.
In the brief ninety minutes’ duration of this production, Orwell’s warning about the corruption of power is there to be heard but it is the ingenuity of the puppetry that will be remembered. From the gossiping chickens to Clover’s frolicking calf – always asking questions – to the grotesqueness of the pigs learning to stand on two legs, this production is a wonderful introduction to the world of theatre.
Reviewed by Phillip Money
Photography by Manuel Harlan
Animal Farm
Cambridge Arts Theatre until 12th February then UK Tour continues. See animalfarmonstage.co.uk for dates.
