There are many Orwell based shows at this year’s Fringe, including fine Theatrical versions of Animal Farm and a sequel to 1984 at Summerhall.
What does this tell us? Perhaps it’s a gauge of our political times that a performance of Orwell’s dark dystopia 1984 can pull in the crowds at 11.25 on a Wednesday morning!
This performance of 1984 by Box Tale Soup was a sell-out. As we waited outside, the thoughts of those around me were dark. Was the strict queueing actually part of the performance? At one point a security van pulled out.
Would some of us be dragged into the back of it, Handmaid’s Tale style? In truth the staff ‘please push up and close the gaps’, ‘move along to the end, please’ were only a fraction bossy, a few rungs below anything mildly authoritarian. There were no cattle prods or electrodes in sight.
Surveillance devices
As the audience enters, they are met with metallic and dirge-like music and a set shrouded in mist. This is, it is evident, not going to be an uplifting show.
At the start we are told, slightly menacingly, to ‘turn off our phones and other surveillance devices’, a nod to the Orwellian aspects of smart phones. In short, the way our movements and activities can be tracked through them. We are also firmly instructed not to make video recordings. There is ‘no need’ as Big Brother is recording everything anyway! These instructions set the mood very effectively.
Recognisable voices
More broadly, the use of off-stage voices throughout the performance adds greatly to it. The recognisable voices of Joanna Lumley and Simon Russell Beale give it gravitas and authority. You really feel you should obey what they are saying. The voices combined with sound effects are particularly effective during the intense ‘2 Minutes Hate’.
Distinctive of Box Tale Soup’s approach is the use of human-scale puppets. These are skilfully manipulated by the perfumers. What they manifest is the way that, in this society, no one is truly as they seem and no one is truly human. They cannot exist according to any inner values. Those with rebellious instincts must, in public, display immense loyalty to Big Brother. And vice versa. Everyone is, quite literally, two faced with split personalities.
Deep distrust
The performances are polished and dynamic, communicating the essence of the narrative impressively. In the close interactions between the characters, the deep distrust was superbly communicated. The audience (around me at least) was transfixed, held by the performances.
The transitions between the scenes were done with real panache, the perfumers moving rhythmically, in tune with the music. These transitions gave the performance a real sense of drive and momentum. At no point did things sag.
Fleeting moments of hope
The narrative was not just dark and dispiriting. What gave the performance texture was highlighting the fleeting moments of hope and optimism, of genuine emotion. These were manifested in the surviving fragments of the past including a paperweight and the old London song ‘Oranges and Lemons’. This was sung wistfully, a glimmer of hope.
O’Brien (the head of the Thought Police, though he initially portrays himself as something quite different) is the only one who knows the full lyric. This illustrates that though much of the past is not accessible to the populace, those in the Inner Party have access to this forbidden knowledge.
The Inner Party also has access to luxuries such as real coffee, not the substitutes. This reference to real coffee stems from Orwell’s experiences under rationing in (and long after) World War II, when chicory essence was the only ‘coffee’ most people had access to. That was in a period of national emergency; in the world of 1984, the state of emergency is permanent, scarcity is unending.
Torture scenes
When Winston and Julia’s clandestine meetings are revealed, the mood switches dramatically. Winston goes from a man looking to rebel to a man facing the full force of the Ministry of Love and the Thought Police. He knows that he will have to confess but hopes he can retain some of his humanity, and cling on to some fragments of truth.
The torture scenes are done well, with the acting controlled, not over the top. The ending is inevitable but the sense of Winston being truly defeated comes across well. He is a broken spirit, willing to accept anything, even that he will love the thing he hates – Big Brother. There is no escape.
Though the story may be well-known, this is a fine performance, fully deserving of the packed audience and extended applause it garnered.
1984 continues at the Pleasance Courtyard (Above) at 11.25 until 25 August.
https://www.pleasance.co.uk/event/1984
