I sat down with director Don Citron to find out more about Animal Farm: As Witnessed by Moses the Raven, coming to the Barons Court Theatre this September.

Can you tell me a little about your show and what audiences can expect?

Animal Farm – As Witnessed by Moses the Raven is my one-man adaptation of George Orwell’s ‘Animal Farm’, told entirely through the eyes of Moses, the raven who appears in the original novel.

It’s not me standing onstage reading the book or simply narrating what happens. I physically become the different animals and characters as Moses remembers the events on the farm. There’s humour in it, because Orwell is very funny in places, but it becomes increasingly dark as the ideals of the Rebellion are gradually corrupted.

I think audiences can expect something quite theatrical, physical and intimate. It’s one actor, a handful of objects and a story most people think they already know — but hopefully seen from a completely different perspective.

What drew you to this specific story?

I’ve had a relationship with ‘Animal Farm’ for nearly thirty years. When I was 19, I played Napoleon in a production at Watford Palace Theatre, directed by Laurie Sansom, and the story has stayed with me ever since.

But what really unlocked this adaptation was Moses. He’s a relatively small character in Orwell’s novel, but I became fascinated by him. He talks about Sugarcandy Mountain — this wonderful place animals supposedly go to after they die — and the pigs initially dismiss him as a liar. Later, when life on the farm becomes increasingly unbearable, they allow him to return and even give him beer.

That fascinated me. Why does a regime that supposedly has no need for religion suddenly find Moses useful?

Once I started looking at the story through his eyes, I realised there was an entirely different ‘Animal Farm’ waiting to be explored.

What has been the biggest challenge in bringing this production to life?

Probably trusting simplicity.

When you’re alone onstage there’s a temptation to constantly do something — another character, another movement, another prop, another idea. But I’ve gradually realised that some of the strongest moments come when I stop doing and simply allow Moses to exist in the space.

There’s also the physical and technical challenge of playing an entire farmyard of characters without turning it into a parade of impressions. Each character needs to be immediately recognisable, but they also need to feel truthful. Boxer in particular has to matter emotionally. If the audience doesn’t care about him, what eventually happens to him means nothing.

So the challenge has been finding that balance between storytelling, physical transformation and simply allowing moments to breathe.

How does the design of your show (set, sound, or lighting) impact the presentation of your story?

The environment is very stark. The audience is entering the farm years after the revolution, when so much of what was originally promised has already decayed. Old posters and propaganda litter the floor, the walls and even the staircase through which the audience enters the theatre.

I want them to feel they’ve entered this world before the story has even begun. Stark violins play a foreboding tune and there’s a musky smell in the air, so the senses are being hit from all sides. You’re not simply sitting down waiting for somebody to tell you about ‘Animal Farm’ — you’ve arrived there.

Everything feels as though it has been fashioned from the remains of the farm itself. A windmill is constructed from old farm tools. A hessian scarecrow sits watching from a wooden upright. Barbed wire crosses the wooden panels and, to one side, a lectern made from old pallets stands waiting for the propaganda that will eventually be spoken from it.

Words are also physically embedded into the environment. The rules of Animalism are crudely carved into wooden panels and, as the play progresses, the audience will begin to notice subtle changes appearing in those words. They’re not necessarily announced. The language simply changes, just as it does for the animals.

The set, sound, lighting and even smell are all there to create the remains of a revolution. Then Moses appears within that environment and begins to tell us how it came to this.

Before the audience hears the story of the revolution, I want them to feel its aftermath.

If you could sum up the show in one word or phrase, what would it be and why?

The cost of belief.

For me, that’s what this version of ‘Animal Farm’ is ultimately about.

Every character believes in something. Boxer believes in work and loyalty. The animals believe in the Rebellion. Napoleon believes in power. Moses offers belief in something beyond the farm itself.

And gradually we see what those beliefs cost them.

That’s why the show isn’t really about whether belief is good or bad. It’s about what happens when somebody else discovers that your belief can be used to control you.

Animal Farm: As Witnessed by Moses the Raven runs at Barons Court Theatre, London, from 29 September – 3 October 2026. Tickets available at https://www.baronscourttheatre.com/animalfarm