Review: Lord of the Flies (Chichester Festival Theatre)

Review by Stephen Gilchrist

⭐️⭐️

I am sure that there is a play in William Golding’s seminal 1954 novel on the theme of Nurture v Nature, but I am afraid this effort by Nigel Williams is not it, neither in its text nor in this production at the Chichester Festival Theatre. I recall studying Lord of the Flies at school (before the dinosaurs) and seeing Peter Brooks’s 1963 movie version. I admit that the story of a group of schoolboys shipwrecked (or in this version, shot down in a plane) on an isolated desert island and their separation into tribes, one representing the maintenance of  social order and the other degenerating into chaos, hedonism and violence, has always left a rather nasty taste in my mouth, though I have always recognised that it is a novel of great integrity and significance.

Of course, Golding was not the first to explore this theme (and his views were coloured by his experiences in World War II). The alliterative expression "nature and nurture" in English has been in use since at least the Elizabethan period and Shakespeare explored it in The Tempest in the characters of Miranda and Caliban, who were raised in similar isolation but developed contrasting personalities. Miranda is often seen as a representation of "natural innocence," while Caliban embodies a "savage" and uncivilised nature. Golding’s novel is equivocal. Some may be tempted by the lack of parameters to the social order to resort to savagery, whilst others have the strength to maintain societal norms.

In this production, played against a largely bare stage save for a piano (I imagine, symbolising ‘culture’) a few travelling trunks and, after the interval, some scaffolding, there are twelve characters. If I was to be unkind, I would suggest, Pirandello-like, that there were 12 characters in search of a play. It’s not quite as bad as that but there are some fundamental flaws. The boys are played by actors of a variety of ages so far as I could tell, all young but certainly older than the characters they were playing. There is cultural diversity and class politics thrown into the mix. There seems to be little consistency in the timbre or style of acting. This I believe has less to do with the ability of the performers, than the rather haphazard direction.

The only characters which appear to be clearly drawn are those of the tragically sensible ‘Piggy,’ portly, Black, and of a lower class than his fellow public school Robinson Crusoes. He is played by an exceptional young actor named Alfie Jallow, a 2024 RADA graduate who is able to successfully replicate a kid ten years younger. He really is the star of the show. Ralph, also Black, commanding, and for reasons about which I am unclear, arrives in a red, sort of ‘cool dude’ suit, also gives a solid performance as the representative of order. Sheyi Cole, a graduate from Guildhall in 2021, plays him with some authority and good sense. Jack, his antagonist, Tucker St. Ivany, delivers, I think, less than he is capable of, though this is due to the direction rather than his innate ability.

The other characters are a miscellany of ages, moods, and tempers, though none of them are clearly defined. There is an awful lot of running around in underwear and shouting on the bare stage (design by Georgia Lowe, lighting by Matt Daw) often to little effect, nor with sufficient comprehensibility. The demise of Piggy and another boy is less shocking than it should be, and the atmosphere lacks the spirit of the threatening clouds of social disorder that is essential for this piece to grip.

The entire production seems on the verge of ‘experimental theatre’. Experimental theatre aims to challenge and move beyond established theatrical norms, such as rigid narratives, naturalistic acting, and the traditional relationship between performer and audience. In this production the text is stilted, artificial, and declamatory, being delivered for effect rather than storytelling. There is some heavy symbolism in the form of a large dead pig, a hand mic standing in for the famous ‘conch’ (the powerful symbol of order, civilisation, and democracy), and a litany of characters running with mobile smoke machines to represent ‘fire.’ The rudimentary beach shelter in which the boys sleep is represented by what seemed to me to be oversized swing bin liners. Go figure. There is also a lot of stage blood at the Act 1 finale.

There is an insistent, persistent, and somewhat annoying continuing underscore of what I would describe as ‘sleep music’ a low pulse repetitive and gentle instrumental composition (by Giles Thomas also responsible for sound). The final scene, a reckoning, does not have the dramatic effect it should have as the lights go down on a line of boys, who look like they’re about to present the résumés à la A Chorus Line.

I regret I cannot be more positive about this show. I love the Chichester Festival Theatre, which normally delivers a top/notch production (as it did last week with its Hamlet) for its devoted audience and I wish the show well, but for me, it just didn’t do it.

Lord of the Flies plays at the Chichester Festival Theatre until October 11th

For tickets and information visit https://www.cft.org.uk/events/lord-of-the-flies

Photos by Manuel Harlan