It's easy enough to picture the scrawled testament to dictatorship written on the side of the barn by hoof and trotter.
"All animals are created equal, but some animals are more equal than others."
It was the message that appeared in George Orwell's "Animal Farm," a book timeless enough to be required reading at many of the elementary and junior high schools across the country. It provides a rather simplistic depiction of idealistic revolution gone awry - a story for all ages involving power, danger, intrigue, etc.
The fable is a manifestation of Orwell's venomous hate for all things Marxist. It was a hate not based on the idealistic nature of communism but on the reality of the Soviet model.
Orwell drew clear parallels between his animals and the leaders of the U.S.S.R. So clear, in fact, that publishers didn't want to touch the book when it was first written in manuscript form for fear of offending the Soviets - our allies at the time in World War II.
For instance, look at the similarities between Leon Trotsky, the other leader of the "October Revolution," and Snowball, the leader of the Animalism revolution. Both were idealistic: Trotsky demanding strict adherence to Marx's work, Snowball wanting to make life better for all animals. Both found that it was difficult to run a bipolar government with two strong leaders and both were chased (killed?) by the minions of their brothers in revolution. In Snowball's case, it was Napoleons' dogs who were in pursuit; in Trotsky's case it was the KGB.
The story of animalistic revolution descending into a revolution of animals has fascinated the children of the Cold War for more than 50 years. But in the post communist era, as possibilities for a romantic war of political visions becomes more remote, the significance of Orwell's story might outlive its relevance.
In a dramatic rescue attempt to save it from obscurity, Jim Henson's Creature Shop - the same folks who brought us the Muppets and the touching but remarkably eerie movie, "Babe" - was commissioned to create a live-action, anamatronic version of Animal Farm.
It aired on Turner Network Television Sunday.
It was a little difficult trying to figure out what audience the movie was geared toward, and it is apparent that the execs at Time Warner were stuck in the same conundrum I was. After all, animals are appealing to children, and the idea of animals talking and interacting with one another is the stuff of the best fables. The directors made the humans of the story the target of whimsy, making abundantly clear the idea that the animals were being controlled by drunks and buffoons acting as Keystone Kops. It's the same message we got from Nickelodeon in the 1980s - all adults are oppressive and dumb, and if the world was run by us, things would be better.
I used to love that when I was small. I used to take great pleasure in watching the wry child outsmart the cocky and demeaning parent.
In fact, I still do. "Animal Farm" must be a children's story.
I would believe that, too, if the fable wasn't bound for the strange plot-twist of the establishment of a Stalinist dictatorship. I enjoyed the fact that the insurgent Squealer, the propagandist and Napoleon, who is the kaiser, brought out a television to satiate the masses - brain-candy wasn't something Orwell thought of. I admit, however, I did feel a little uncomfortable when, in a Marxist twist, Napoleon put the skull of Old Major - the father of Animalism - on a pike and declared that only criminals would be intimidated by his skull. It was a little strange to see chickens sacrifice their eggs to be smashed rather than give them up for sale at the bequest of Napoleon. I had trouble watching Boxer, the unquestioning proletariat workhorse, get sacrificed to the glue factory for profit after his usefulness was up.
It was interesting watching the propaganda films of Squealer, where the animals would sit and listen to other endorsements reporting that, thanks to Napoleon, they were better fed and more productive than they ever had been. It was interesting watching the rather unconvincing footage of Napoleon's kangaroo court declare animals guilty and send them to the gallows. I particularly enjoyed the scene of Napoleon declaring the Animalism revolution complete and deferring to a chorus of ducks and sheep singing his praises, surrounded by banners of the Animalism flag.
All very adult themes, all eerily similar to Stalinistic legacy.
The best part of Orwell's story, though, was the ambiguity he left in the ending. It is that feeling of hopelessness and desperation felt by the animals as they watch the faces of man and pig in the window grow increasingly similar. In the TNT version, however, we get to digest the director's interpretation.
A few of the animals exile themselves to the edge of the farm to await Napoleons' inevitable destruction after he declares the animals must arm themselves. When they return to the farm, it is scorched, gray and empty save for a few timid survivors - it is unclear whether this is meant to be a parallel to the fall of the Soviets or not. What is clear is that the ending is meant to be happy - in the spirit of "The Lion King," the scorched earth renews itself and the movie closes with narrative.
"The walls have now fallen," the narrator said. "Napoleon's gone, and life (heh) goes on."
As the music rises we see a car rolling down the horizon toward the farm, and new owners pull in to the caveat that the animals will not let the new owners make the same mistakes as the old.
There are two messages we can take from this if we want to continue the political parallel.
Either the story is telling us that life is hopeless without a supreme yet benevolent ruler and self-rule - like our current political system - is futile.
Or we are still comparing "Animal Farm" to the Russian situation, and Boris Yeltsin is pulling into the garage. In that case the animals can look forward to corruption, organized crime and the certainty of another revolution of one sort or another before too long.
Not a children's story.
I think I liked ambiguity better.