George Orwell got it right. Unfortunately for the world, that’s not very good news.
Orwell (1903-1950) was one of England’s pre-eminent futurists, whose writings have been described as a "subversive, non-conforming brand of patriotism.”
He envisioned a world where Big Brother — think surveillance cameras — and Double Speak, — think spin doctors — would rule our lives.
A world where unchecked political power and fear tactics might keep a populace in quaking subservience, political as well as social. Anything resonating here?
His two most notable works, "1984” and "Animal Farm,” long regarded as portents of the future, have been combined into "The Orwell Project” by Synapse Productions, which has mounted imaginative stagings of both. They’re playing in repertory at off-Broadway’s Connelly Theater in New York City.
Although I only had an opportunity to view "Animal Farm,” on the basis of that production I can attest to the undiminished impact of Orwell’s prophetic visions.
I’m told Synapse’s "1984,” with oversize video screens with a powerful sound design, paints a harrowing portrait of a world ruled with technology. But how to stage "Animal Farm,” which thus far has been dramatized only in animated film versions?
Clever fellows! They’ve turned to the world of puppetry to recreate Orwell’s farm saga
that begins in misery, rises to heights of idealism and collapses under the onus of dictatorship.

Old Major (Francis Kelly), center, the old and venerable pig of “Animal Farm,” urges his fellow barnyard animals to revolt against Farmer Jones. A new musical adaptation of Orwell’s political satire, “Farm” utilizes a wide range of puppetry to create the story’s farmyard characters.

Director David Travis populates his agrarian setting with actor/puppeteers who handle fanciful hand and stick-and-rod puppets, bunraku and masks by Emily DeCola and Eric Wright.
Their designs call on the entire range of puppetry. Some actors carry only the head of the animal they are playing, while others have the entire body suspended from their waist.
A herd of sheep in a cart is manipulated by one actor standing behind them and chickens are represented by hand puppets. Pigs, which play a central role, are limed by actors wearing pig masks.
My favorite creature, mostly because of the intense and skillful work of Aaron Mostkoff Unger, was the narrator, a barn rat.
This faithful adaptation of "Animal Farm” is by London theater’s Peter Hall, enhanced by a pleasant if not particularly striking score by Richard Peaslee (music) and Adrian Mitchell (lyrics).
The story is a simple one
but ripe with political implications. Under the cruel hand of Farmer Jones the animals of Manor Farm live desperate, needy lives.
Before he dies, the old and venerable pig, Old Major, implores his fellow beasts to revolt. When they do, banishing Jones to his nearby pub, they find themselves uneasy with self-government.
That is until the pigs Snowball, Squealer, and particularly Napoleon, "volunteer” to lead them.
It’s only after Napoleon takes control of the farm with the help of a snarling band of dogs, and rules with an iron hand, that the animals realize they have exchanged one despot for another. As with so many political upheavals, rebellion begets rebellion.
A moving cyclorama high above the action uses black silhouettes to depict action taking place elsewhere.
The cast was in excellent form at the performance I attended, and I made special note of the work of Kelly McAllister as the brave and noble horse Boxer, Timothy McCracken and Darius Stone as Snowball and Napoleon, and Jenny Mercein as the dizzy filly Mollie.
Orwell’s take on politics remains as engrossing and frightening as it did when "Animal Farm” was published in 1945.
The story’s political anthems, "Four legs good, two legs bad” and "All animals are created equal, some are just more equal,” are prejudicial sound bites. Does nothing ever change?

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"Animal Farm” plays in repertory with "1984” through March 7 at the Connelly Theater, 220 E. 4th St., between Avenues A and B, New York City.
Performances are Sundays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m., Mondays at 7, and matinees Saturdays and Sundays at 3. Tickets are $19, $12 for seniors and students. Wednesday performances in February are "pay what you wish.” Call Smarttix at (212) 868-4444.