THE STORY – A group of animals, tired of their old lifestyle, rebel against their human owners and take over the farm. With their uprising over, the animals are presented with a fresh set of challenges under the rule of a cunning pig named Napoleon. It’s a situation that forces them to find the courage to stand up to Napoleon.
THE CAST – Seth Rogen, Gaten Matarazzo, Kieran Culkin, Glenn Close, Laverne Cox, Steve Buscemi, Woody Harrelson, Jim Parsons, Kathleen Turner, Iman Vellani & Andy Serkis
THE TEAM – Andy Serkis (Director) & Nicholas Stoller (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 96 Minutes
As the famous meme goes, George Orwell wrote “Nineteen Eighty-Four” as a warning, not an instruction manual, and something similar can be said of “Animal Farm,” his 1945 fable he originally conceived as a critique of Stalinism featuring farm animal characters. Eight decades later, it remains highly relevant, as filmmaker Andy Serkis pointed out at the premiere of the new film adaptation at the Annecy International Animated Film Festival when he quipped, “Any resemblance to actual governments and people is intentional.” Even more pertinently, the animated film ends with a dual dedication in the closing credits: “To those who are oppressed, for your time will certainly come. And to those who oppress, for your time will certainly be over.”
This version is very much set in the present day, with modern technology and some (jarring) pop culture references thrown into the mix (one of the main characters is referred to as “the Notorious P.I.G.” in one scene). The story is broadly the same as in the book: one day, the animals on this farm rebel against their owner, Mr. Jones (whose one line is provided by Serkis), and institute a society where they’re supposedly all equal. The initial set of rules comes courtesy of the pig Snowball (Laverne Cox), but tensions and deceit eventually lead to fellow porcine Napoleon (Seth Rogen) taking over as leader. Soon, it becomes clear that he’s evenly matched by aspiring farm buyer Frieda Pilkington (a reimagined version of Orwell’s Mr. Pilkington, played by Glenn Close) in terms of threats to the farm’s wellbeing.
This is clearly a passion project for Serkis, who first pitched it some ten years before it eventually made its way onto the screen (with currently no distributor at the moment), at one point thinking it would mark the debut of his production company, the Imaginarium. When that didn’t come to pass, mainly due to funding issues, the actor and performance capture icon honed his directorial skills with the CGI-heavy “Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle” and – filmed later, but released first – “Breathe,” a more straightforward human drama based on the life of his producing partner’s father. He also showed his commercial viability by tackling Sony’s superhero sequel “Venom: Let There Be Carnage” (which led to him briefly appearing in the follow-up “Venom: The Last Dance” as the villainous Knull).
Perhaps most surprisingly, given Serkis and the Imaginarium’s pedigree (the company has provided performance capture services for various American blockbusters), “Animal Farm” has jettisoned the expected photorealistic approach to its animation and opted for a traditionally animated take, more in line with conventional CGI features that don’t feature as much striking detail and is meant to play more broadly, almost with a direct-to-video level of quality. In particular, there’s a hint of Illumination in the overall aesthetic, albeit with less visual polish in places, presumably as a result of the difference in budget between this project and the Comcast-owned studio.
With that technical ethos also comes a more family-friendly approach compared to the source material, which, while not especially gruesome, is a famously dark and pessimistic tale, culminating in an oft-quoted finale (a reference point for one of the film’s creepier scenes) that leaves little room for hope for its characters or for the greater implications on society as a whole. It’s arguably not a very palatable premise for a project with mass appeal featuring talking animals, hence a certain amount of mainstream concessions, some bad (the aforementioned pop culture nods), some at least decent (the introduction of a younger pig, voiced by Gaten Matarazzo, as the audience surrogate witnessing Napoleon’s progressive turn for the worse).
Nicholas Stoller’s (“Storks“) script does a good job balancing the key events in the book with newly invented or modified details that speak to the original text’s continued relevance: with how ridiculous certain governments have gotten, it’s no surprise the adaptation has seen it fit to depict its more villainous characters as overconfident bro-y types. In fact, whether it was intentional or not (given the movie’s long production schedule), it’s quite fitting that a movie where Napoleon and his sidekick Squealer (Academy and Emmy Award winner Kieran Culkin) occasionally come across as Trump and Musk analogues had its first public screening shortly after the real-life falling out between the two competing, massive egos.
On the voice front, some eyebrow-raising occurred when the cast was initially announced, particularly Seth Rogen as Napoleon. In fact, in the context of what Serkis and Stoller (the latter a frequent Rogen collaborator) are attempting to create with this adaptation, the Canadian comedian and actor is surprisingly a perfect choice for a role that deliberately and cleverly plays to his strengths at first before gleefully subverting his famous screen persona in eerie ways. Even Rogen’s trademark laugh becomes increasingly disturbing, an extended take on the film’s opening gag about a slaughterhouse truck that the animals misread as “laughterhouse.”
Rogen is ably supported by Matarazzo, Cox, Woody Harrelson (as the horse, Boxer), Kathleen Turner (as Benjamin, the donkey), and Iman Vellani (playing a pair of piglets named Puff and Tammy), plus Jim Parsons in a marvelous dual turn as the individually minded sheep Carl and his slogan-spouting brethren. Steve Buscemi and Glenn Close are equally game as the human characters Mr. Whymper and Frieda Pilkington, respectively. Together, Whymper and Pilkington personify the external capitalist forces eager to exploit or destroy any revolution that threatens the status quo. Their presence reinforces that the animals’ downfall isn’t solely the result of Napoleon’s internal power grab but also the consequence of opportunists who see profit in collapse. While their scenes carry satirical weight, some of the humor surrounding them pushes the film toward an overly broad tone, one that undercuts the quiet, creeping dread that defines even the lighter moments between Napoleon and the other animals (aside from the occasional lapse into flatulence gags).
Serkis preserves Orwell’s original allegorical message and intent (showing how the promise of equality and freedom can be betrayed by authoritarian leadership and political manipulation), albeit slightly diluted, as the film walks a tightrope between the political urgency of the source material and the need to appeal to a wider audience. Book purists may cry foul at the liberties Serkis and Stoller take, but that’s always been par for the course when it comes to this particular novel. In some ways, it feels like a missed opportunity but a grim reminder of how difficult it can be in this day and age to make an animated film in America outside of the Hollywood studio system, even with some of the industry’s biggest names attached. However, on its own terms, as a distinctly contemporary adaptation still rooted in the text’s timeless topicality of totalitarianism, the corruption of ideals, class inequality, and the control of how information is spread, this is a far more intriguing interpretation than one might initially assume.
