Director's Reflections on 1984 – Alex Jenkins
There are some productions that stay with you long after the final curtain. Not necessarily because everything went perfectly, or because of the applause, but because of what they demanded of you, what they taught you and the people you shared the experience with.
For me, 1984 will always be one of those productions.
When we first began exploring the idea of staging George Orwell's 1984 at All Saints' Church in Sutton Courtenay, I knew we had an extraordinary opportunity. To perform this story in the place where Orwell himself is laid to rest was incredibly powerful. But I also knew that simply putting on the play wouldn't be enough.
I didn't want audiences to just watch Oceania. I wanted them to feel as though they had entered it.
More Than a Performance
From the beginning, the vision was to create something immersive. Something that began before the first line was spoken and continued beyond the stage itself.
The church presented both an opportunity and an enormous challenge. It wasn't a traditional theatre, and we couldn't treat it like one. We needed to work with the architecture, the atmosphere and the limitations of the space rather than fight against them.
But there was something about that setting that felt right for 1984. The history, the stillness, the sense of being somewhere significant. Against that backdrop, the intrusion of Party propaganda, surveillance, harsh lighting and an increasingly oppressive soundscape felt all the more unsettling.
Every element mattered. The security checks, ration cards, Party officials, propaganda posters, telescreens and even the programme were designed to make the audience feel part of the world we were creating.
I wanted the experience to be uncomfortable at times. Not for the sake of shock, but because 1984 is an uncomfortable story. It asks difficult questions about truth, freedom, fear, control and what happens when an individual is stripped of their identity.
And those questions feel as relevant today as they did when Orwell wrote the novel.
The Responsibility of Telling This Story
One of the greatest challenges of directing 1984 was finding the balance between telling an extraordinary story and doing justice to the very human experiences at its centre.
For all its political themes and dystopian imagery, this is ultimately a story about people. About Winston's need to think freely, to love, to remember and to hold on to some sense of himself in a world determined to take those things away.
It was important to me that the production never lost sight of that humanity.
The intensity of the second act, particularly the torture sequences, was something we approached with care. Those scenes needed to be confronting, but they also needed to have purpose. The horror isn't simply what happens to Winston physically. It's watching someone gradually lose the very things that make them who they are.
As a director, there is something quite extraordinary about watching actors take an idea you've discussed, explored and rehearsed and turn it into something that genuinely affects an audience.
There were moments during the performances when you could feel the silence in the room. That kind of silence is incredibly powerful.
The People Who Made Oceania
One of the things I'm most proud of is how completely everyone embraced the vision.
1984 was never going to be a production that could rely on its actors alone. It required an enormous amount of creativity, problem-solving, trust and collaboration from every part of the company.
From the soundscape and lighting to the set, costumes, makeup, multimedia and music, so much of what audiences experienced was created by people giving their time, skills and imagination to something they believed in.
And then there were the people who might not usually find themselves part of the performance — our Front of House volunteers, who became the first faces of the Party. They helped establish the atmosphere before audiences had even taken their seats.
That collective commitment was what made the production work.
It's easy to talk about a director's vision, but a vision is only an idea until other people bring it to life. And in this case, they brought it to life in ways that continually surprised and inspired me.
Taking ADC Beyond the Unicorn
There was another significance to this production.
With the Unicorn Theatre unavailable during the refurbishment of the Abbey Buildings, 1984 marked our first ADC production on tour.
That was both exciting and daunting.
The Unicorn has been home to so many ADC productions over the years, and stepping outside that familiar environment meant rethinking almost everything we normally take for granted.
But it also reminded me of something important about community theatre.
A theatre company isn't defined by the building it performs in. It's defined by its people, their creativity, their determination and their willingness to try something new.
Seeing everyone come together to overcome the challenges of a completely different venue was, for me, one of the greatest achievements of the entire experience.
The Audience Was Part of the Story
I don't think I was fully prepared for the response we received.
Four sold-out performances were wonderful, of course, but what has meant so much more are the messages, conversations and reflections that followed.
People have spoken about how the production made them feel, how deeply they connected with the characters and how the experience stayed with them afterwards.
One audience member described it as “an absolute honour to be in the audience”. Another said they were “engrossed, absorbed and convinced by the production.”
To hear that our work had affected people in that way was incredibly moving.
Theatre is such a temporary art form. You spend months imagining, planning and rehearsing something that exists for only a handful of evenings. Then, almost as quickly as it began, it's gone.
But occasionally, something of it stays behind.
And I think that is what we all hope for when we make theatre.
What I'll Take Away
I could write endlessly about the things I learned from directing 1984. There were challenges, difficult decisions, moments of doubt and plenty of occasions when I wondered quite how we were going to make everything work.
But I wouldn't change the experience.
I'm proud of the production we created, but even more than that, I'm proud of the people who created it.
I'm grateful to every member of the cast and crew who trusted me, challenged me, shared ideas, solved problems and gave so much of themselves to this production.
And I'm grateful to every audience member who stepped into Oceania with us.
For four nights, in a churchyard where George Orwell rests, we brought his extraordinary world to life.
Then the lights went out, the telescreens fell silent and Oceania disappeared.
But I know I won't forget it.
Thank you for being part of it.
Alex Jenkins
Director, 1984
Abingdon Drama Club
