FOR many in the varied press night audience at Bath Theatre Royal, Big Brother would have been a TV show they had seen since childhood, and Room 101 a favourite radio, and later television comedy show.

Perhaps that’s why it was necessary for the Lindsay Posner production of Ryan Craig’s adaptation of the iconic 1949 book to emphasise that this is GEORGE ORWELL’S 1984, and not some spin-off of a “reality” series. And perhaps that’s why so many in the theatre went into 21st century whoops at the end of a terrifyingly recognisable depiction of what can happen if we give in to the advertorial world of fake news and power applied by fear and false expectations.

Orwell’s dystopian novel was seen as a cautionary tale 75 years ago, and perhaps this version might demonstrate that we have been very, very incautious. It is heralded as the first theatrical production to take full advantage of the technical capabilities of the 2020s, and before the action starts a huge eye looks out over the auditorium, fuelled by various cameras ranging across the layers of seating – what fun not only to be able to take the obligatory selfie against the backdrop of the stage set, but, if you’re quick enough, to be able to catch yourself being filmed taking that selfie on the screen behind you. That’s what theatre is all about!

So should I remove my Grumpy Old Woman cape and talk about the play?

It is one of the most disturbing things I have seen on stage, cleverly realised with only a tiny cast to tell the distilled story of Winston Smith and his efforts to stand up against the power of Big Brother. It underlines the difficulty of remembering things in a past we are brainwashed into forgetting. It warns of the dangers of “my truth” and of re-writing history to suit our purposes. It reinforces the power of Orwell’s prescience.

Keith Allen is a frighteningly recognisable O’Brien, with Mark Quartley as the good man who is brought to his knees by terror. David Birrell’s Parson’s brilliantly captures this blustering fear of a father who knows he will be denounced by his young daughter. Perhaps the “love story between Winston and Julia doesn’t work quite so well in this production. Nicholas Woodson is a chillingly avuncular Big Brother, beaming out of the bulletin screen.

Thank God, or whichever deity is currently in vogue, that 1984 continues as a set book in today’s cancellation-based curricula. Read it and weep, but more importantly read it and look at yourself and your life … not at your selfies.

GP-W

Photographs by Simon Annand

1984 is at Bath until Saturday, and at Poole Lighthouse from 8th to 12th October as part of its UK tour.