The British adaption of George Orwell’s’ 1984 (1949) by Robert Icke and Duncan Macmillan (Nottingham Playhouse, 2013) has been given by the Sydney Theatre Company with an Australian cast.
It is an interesting stab at making a classic novel approachable - as a belated theatrical experience - but is not by any means a highlight of Sydney’s 2017 theatrical offerings.
It uses a framing devise to approach the novel, with the articulation of reading group discussing the diary of Winston Smith. This is a little ponderous, but an acceptable emplacement of the novel as an artefact. Within this construct, members of the reading group then slowly morph into characters from the actual book.
Winston Smith, the main character, has been described as a “phlegmatic everyman”. In this production, Tom Conroy is a rather young Winston who has to work hard to launch the necessary gravitas that progresses personal rebellion to the foreground. It was hard to catch traces of his phlegmatic nature, nor how me might be dazzled by the unfolding of the true past that he encounters in his work at the Ministry of Truth. His anger and revolutionary acts seem to arise from nowhere. We are not given any sense of his wearisome role in revising the artefacts and actions of history. In this reading, we witness an angry dissatisfied youth.
His adversary - in a kind of dance of death - is O’Brien, an inner party warlord who pretends to support Winston in his emergent rebellion, but is a double agent intent on seeking out and re-educating the intelligent disbeliever. Terrence Crawford essays an interesting assumption of the role. He was a voluble and suavely menacing character, dapper and dogmatic, without necessarily instilling the kind of rumbling chill that such a clever adversary might elicit. This was a besuited take on the uncivil rule of a civil servant. His diction was, however, exemplary – which could not be said of other cast members.
Given this mismatch between protagonists, it was hard to feel the weight of Winston’s intellectual struggle with O’Brien, nor the depth of his ultimate extinction of spirit.
The production makes extensive use of film (Tim Reid – Video Designer) projected above the stage. It elegantly captures Winston commencing his diary. This multimedia interaction was effective in the distillation of specific moments, particularly unnerving in the unpersoning of former inner party members. Here before our very eyes, on computer screen and database, a life is totally erased from history, by the competent assent of Winston. Chilling.
The story is not strong in its presentation of female characters We are rather underwhelmed by the love affair between Winston and Julia (Ursula Mills). The lack of a deep sexual spark between these two worked against the effective video presentation of their love affair within the box room of paintings and vivid wallpaper, all rendered nicely in 1948 black and white tints. Unfortunately, most of the lovers’ interactions felt like two children playing at being adults.
Paul Blackwell as Parsons was drolly amusing, mumbling his way to death, but the horror of his predicament (caught having a bad dream and betrayed by his zealous daughter - who will proudly attend his execution) was floated more on laughs then any terror.
The use of repetitive gestures and scenes was serviceable in reminding us of the regimented nature of life in Airstrip One, but it seemed a little mono thematic in impact. There was a strong thread of stylized action throughout this adaption that served to distance its audience (very limited audience response across its length), though without the weight of a Brechtian darkness to pull us into an intellectual crevice.
Fiona Press seemed somewhat wasted on the threadbare role of Mrs Parsons – once more reflecting starkly on the misogyny of Orwell.
Robert Mussolini was somewhat one dimensional as Martin, O’Brien’s servant – though there was a nice hint of menace. His riff on the serving of Victory Gin was wanly droll.
Yalin Ozucelik was relatively effective in introducing some touches of human feeling into the double agent role of Charrington, but it was not deep-seated emotion. The theatrical defrocking of his betrayal - the removal of his grey-haired wig - was neither carefully spotlight nor thrilling.
Guy O’Grady as Syme gave us a brief, well-ventilated articulation of the meaning of Newspeak, but the obliteration of language was not extensively explored in this adaption.
The violence of the torture scenes was a touch gruelling, but worse excesses are seen on television and in the cinema. The eruption of blood on the stage after the excavation of Winston’s teeth was, however, very effective and sent a ripple of disgust across the stalls. The threat of torture by hungry rats was well enacted.
The excessive noise (Tom Gibbons – Sound Designer) and glam blitz lighting (Natasha Chivers – Lighting Designer) was very well choreographed, like a pop music video, but somehow lent a tone of ambivalence to the whole human construct of the tragedy. It was hard to feel concern for any of these characters.
The costume designed was also disconcerting, particularly in the opening scenes, purportedly set in 2050, when the actual costumes (al a 1948) rang different bells.
This was a perplexing evening in the theatre. One could admire some of the dexterity in the adaption but in many ways the portrayal of this remarkably prescient dystopian fantasy was underwhelming. Maybe its paranoia and vicious intelligence requires the private world of the book and its crepuscular, interior imaginings to effectively underpin human fear and longing with chilling immediacy.
Sydney Theatre Company in association with State Theatre Company South Australia and by arrangement with GWB Entertainment and Ambassador Theatre Group, Roslyn Packer Theatre, Sydney, July 18, 2017
It is an interesting stab at making a classic novel approachable - as a belated theatrical experience - but is not by any means a highlight of Sydney’s 2017 theatrical offerings.
It uses a framing devise to approach the novel, with the articulation of reading group discussing the diary of Winston Smith. This is a little ponderous, but an acceptable emplacement of the novel as an artefact. Within this construct, members of the reading group then slowly morph into characters from the actual book.
Winston Smith, the main character, has been described as a “phlegmatic everyman”. In this production, Tom Conroy is a rather young Winston who has to work hard to launch the necessary gravitas that progresses personal rebellion to the foreground. It was hard to catch traces of his phlegmatic nature, nor how me might be dazzled by the unfolding of the true past that he encounters in his work at the Ministry of Truth. His anger and revolutionary acts seem to arise from nowhere. We are not given any sense of his wearisome role in revising the artefacts and actions of history. In this reading, we witness an angry dissatisfied youth.
His adversary - in a kind of dance of death - is O’Brien, an inner party warlord who pretends to support Winston in his emergent rebellion, but is a double agent intent on seeking out and re-educating the intelligent disbeliever. Terrence Crawford essays an interesting assumption of the role. He was a voluble and suavely menacing character, dapper and dogmatic, without necessarily instilling the kind of rumbling chill that such a clever adversary might elicit. This was a besuited take on the uncivil rule of a civil servant. His diction was, however, exemplary – which could not be said of other cast members.
Given this mismatch between protagonists, it was hard to feel the weight of Winston’s intellectual struggle with O’Brien, nor the depth of his ultimate extinction of spirit.
The production makes extensive use of film (Tim Reid – Video Designer) projected above the stage. It elegantly captures Winston commencing his diary. This multimedia interaction was effective in the distillation of specific moments, particularly unnerving in the unpersoning of former inner party members. Here before our very eyes, on computer screen and database, a life is totally erased from history, by the competent assent of Winston. Chilling.
The story is not strong in its presentation of female characters We are rather underwhelmed by the love affair between Winston and Julia (Ursula Mills). The lack of a deep sexual spark between these two worked against the effective video presentation of their love affair within the box room of paintings and vivid wallpaper, all rendered nicely in 1948 black and white tints. Unfortunately, most of the lovers’ interactions felt like two children playing at being adults.
Paul Blackwell as Parsons was drolly amusing, mumbling his way to death, but the horror of his predicament (caught having a bad dream and betrayed by his zealous daughter - who will proudly attend his execution) was floated more on laughs then any terror.
The use of repetitive gestures and scenes was serviceable in reminding us of the regimented nature of life in Airstrip One, but it seemed a little mono thematic in impact. There was a strong thread of stylized action throughout this adaption that served to distance its audience (very limited audience response across its length), though without the weight of a Brechtian darkness to pull us into an intellectual crevice.
Fiona Press seemed somewhat wasted on the threadbare role of Mrs Parsons – once more reflecting starkly on the misogyny of Orwell.
Robert Mussolini was somewhat one dimensional as Martin, O’Brien’s servant – though there was a nice hint of menace. His riff on the serving of Victory Gin was wanly droll.
Yalin Ozucelik was relatively effective in introducing some touches of human feeling into the double agent role of Charrington, but it was not deep-seated emotion. The theatrical defrocking of his betrayal - the removal of his grey-haired wig - was neither carefully spotlight nor thrilling.
Guy O’Grady as Syme gave us a brief, well-ventilated articulation of the meaning of Newspeak, but the obliteration of language was not extensively explored in this adaption.
The violence of the torture scenes was a touch gruelling, but worse excesses are seen on television and in the cinema. The eruption of blood on the stage after the excavation of Winston’s teeth was, however, very effective and sent a ripple of disgust across the stalls. The threat of torture by hungry rats was well enacted.
The excessive noise (Tom Gibbons – Sound Designer) and glam blitz lighting (Natasha Chivers – Lighting Designer) was very well choreographed, like a pop music video, but somehow lent a tone of ambivalence to the whole human construct of the tragedy. It was hard to feel concern for any of these characters.
The costume designed was also disconcerting, particularly in the opening scenes, purportedly set in 2050, when the actual costumes (al a 1948) rang different bells.
This was a perplexing evening in the theatre. One could admire some of the dexterity in the adaption but in many ways the portrayal of this remarkably prescient dystopian fantasy was underwhelming. Maybe its paranoia and vicious intelligence requires the private world of the book and its crepuscular, interior imaginings to effectively underpin human fear and longing with chilling immediacy.
Sydney Theatre Company in association with State Theatre Company South Australia and by arrangement with GWB Entertainment and Ambassador Theatre Group, Roslyn Packer Theatre, Sydney, July 18, 2017