More than 20 years have elapsed since I studied Lord of the Flies at school, and I must admit that it’s not a book I remember particularly fondly. With hindsight, however, I believe this might reveal more about the drawbacks of studying a text for a prolonged period rather than any inherent weaknesses within William Golding’s much-admired novel.
Such is the stature of Lord of the Flies that many people who haven’t read the novel—or seen any of its various film and stage adaptations—know that it involves boys descending into barbarism and murder when removed from the adult world. The terrific US TV show Yellowjackets—in which a group of high-school girls resort to cannibalism when forced to survive in the Canadian wilderness—has been frequently compared to Golding’s novel, and its great success (the second season has just been released) indicates that audiences continue to be fascinated by how people behave when they are taken out of civilised society.
Director Amy Leach has proven on numerous occasions that she has an enviable gift for dusting off the classics and making them feel fresh and reinvigorated. This was certainly the case with her 2019 production of Hamlet, which played like a lean and mean thriller—quite an achievement when one remembers that this is Shakespeare’s longest play.
Lord of the Flies is often—erroneously—regarded as a novel set during the Second World War; this is largely due, no doubt, to the fact that the schoolboys who crash on the desert island are evacuees. However, the novel is actually set during a fictional atomic war, reflecting the 1950s’ anxiety about the future of the human race.
Leach’s production has a contemporary feel, but the absence of references to modern life in Nigel Williams’s script—mercifully, none of the students mention TikTok—means that it also has a timeless quality. At any rate, this adaptation confirms that Golding’s novel has much to say about life in the 21st century, particularly when it comes to children fleeing war zones and families being separated from each other.
The young cast are terrific across the board. Sade Malone brings an appealing vulnerability to Ralph, whose calm leadership is discarded in favour of a more chaotic and Dionysian way of doing things. Patrick Dineen is highly effective as Jack, Ralph’s rival, powerfully conveying the wounded pride and insecurity that leads him to behave in an increasingly despicable way.
Having last seen Jason Battersby as Peter Pan at the York Theatre Royal pantomime, it was immensely enjoyable to watch him sink his teeth into the role of Roger, whose innate sadism is given free rein on the island. His performance was consistently disturbing throughout, and the final scene—in which it is heavily intimated that he will get away with murder—left me feeling genuinely unnerved.
Adam Fenton brought considerable pathos to the role of Simon, the first victim of the schoolboys’ escalating paranoia and blood lust. Equally impressive was Jason Connor, who tackles the role of Piggy with aplomb, making the character simultaneously sympathetic and irritating.
Max Johns’s striking monochrome set, which consists of a white rock surrounded by black palm trees, evokes the idea of a tropical island whilst also embodying the darkness at the heart of Golding’s novel. It also provides a canvas for all the blood which gets smeared about over the course of the evening. Be warned, this production is not for the faint of heart.
I was deeply impressed by this staging of Lord of the Flies. From the very beginning, I found myself utterly engrossed within the play’s high-concept plot, and at no point did my attention wander. In the wrong hands, this production could have been a moralising bore. However, under Leach’s assured direction, Lord of the Flies offers audiences an exciting, dynamic and thrillingly dangerous evening at the theatre.