Animal Farm – Leeds Playhouse

Writer: George Orwell

Adaptor: Tatty Hennessy

Director: Amy Leach

George Orwell’s Animal Farm’s sharp satire of Stalinist Communism is known all over the world. On Manor Farm, the overworked animals rise up against their owner, Farmer Jones, in a rebellion mirroring the Russian Revolution. At first, the animals dream of equality under the slogan “All animals are equal.” But a power-hungry pig, Napoleon, hijacks the movement, twisting their new animal-led utopia into a brutal dictatorship. From Britain to China and from South Africa to Zimbabwe, numerous playwrights and directors have adapted Animal Farm for the screen and stage with the aim of skewering tyrants and totalitarian regimes.

Tatty Hennessy’s adaptation of Animal Farm is a strikingly modern take on Orwell’s novel. From the opening scene – filled with the grunts and wails of an animal in agony – the production wastes no time establishing its raw and visceral tone. Hayley Grindle’s austere set design transforms Manor Farm into an industrial slaughterhouse. Blood, dirt, and immersive theatrical smog plunge the audience into the animals’ suffering. The farmhouse is elevated above the lower stage, highlighting the exploitative power relations that drive the desperate animals to rebel against the tyrannical Farmer Jones.

Hennessy opts not to draw direct parallels to today’s politics. Instead, her production contrasts the grand scale of revolution with the deeply personal struggles of the animals. The result is a harrowing production that makes Orwell’s story feel both immediate and timeless. Hennessy’s dialogue balances shared ensemble scenes with intimate spotlights of Orwell’s characters. Each character is given space to shine within stand-alone scenes. They include the visionary Major, the wise boar who inspires the animal revolution, and the tireless workhorse Boxer, a symbol of the working class. They also feature a cynical, world-weary donkey, the only one to express early skepticism about the revolution’s utopian promise.

Amy Leach’s restrained direction complements this intimate focus on the animals’ stories. The actors’ animal impressions are not overbearing and they integrate subtle oinks, brays, and neighs into their performances like natural tics. This naturalism means the audience never loses sight of the story’s mounting tension as the revolution falls apart. A standout performance comes from Tianah Hodding as Clover, the hardworking carthorse who becomes aware of the corruption around her. Through brittle body language and tone, Hodding subtly conveys the quiet despair of a character torn between hope and the painful truth that the animals’ revolutionary efforts have failed.

A central trio of revolutionary pigs are at the heart of Animal Farm, each bringing a distinct and often malevolent presence to the stage. Robin Morrisey’s Snowball is a rough-and-ready working-class hero. Meanwhile, Tachia Newall portrays Napoleon with surprising nuance. Rather than an outright tyrant from the start, Hennessy’s adaptation presents him as weak and conflicted. Early scenes depict him leading democratic meetings where every animal has a voice. Cruelty only begins to creep into his persona under the influence of the third pig, Squealer, played with slippery charm by Tom Simper.

Napoleon’s descent into corruption is gradual. With Squealer’s encouragement, Napoleon gradually undermines the animals’ trust in Snowball as a leader. When violence finally erupts, Napoleon is well-placed to twist the farm’s new ideals of animal equality into a tool for control. This subtle change adds depth to the production and makes the eventual downfall of the farm feel more realistic and accurate to life. After all, it only takes one bad apple to spoil the barrel (a proverb that also appears in Hennessy’s script when Squealer persuades Napoleon to turn against Snowball).

The 13-strong cast delivers uniformly powerful performances, and clever adjustments to the character in Hennessy’s dialogue offer new perspectives on the familiar story of Animal Farm. However, this production doesn’t hold back when delivering Orwell’s final message. By the time the pigs stand triumphant, indistinguishable from their former human masters, Hennessy doesn’t shy away from the ending’s bleak conclusion. The animals have merely traded one set of oppressors for another.

Grindle’s set design once again reinforces this harsh truth, and the farmhouse looms over the stage to symbolise the pigs’ absolute power. Stripped of any illusions of revolution, this version of Animal Farm lays bare the cruel and corrupting nature of power. Napoleon delivers a blistering monologue that revels in the new power he has gained through revolution. This ending offers no comfort, just like the skeletal frame of its austere set design. The promised utopia is once again an industrial slaughterhouse. Grim, unrelenting, and disturbingly relevant, this is Animal Farm as it should be seen – merciless and without comfort.

Runs until 29th March 2025