The Hunger Games on Stage ★★★★

Leading an enormous cast and crew, Matthew Dunster directs The Hunger Games: On Stage, which is adapted by award-winning playwright Conor McPherson from Suzanne Collins’ first book in the series and Lionsgate’s first film of the franchise.

This modern classic needs little introduction. Against a dystopian backdrop, Katniss Everdeen (Mia Carragher) volunteers as tribute to a brutal experience where only 1 of 24 may survive, or so they think, and the games end in a revolution-sparking stunt.

Playing at Troubadour Canary Wharf, the purpose-built venue for this production, there is no doubt that this show is visually incredible and a unique experience. Laid out like a stadium, this dauntingly big arena plunges you into the heart of the action, so you become a passive watcher of this brutality – confined to the seat in your allocated ‘district’. Two blocks of seats even move to accommodate grand entrances and exits. Such immersive and creative choices sell this show and signify the political themes crucial to the story’s popularity.

Amidst debates around health and safety rules restricting modern theatre, it’s refreshing to see Dunster deciding to leave no hiding space for his crew. In the interval, set changes are visible, and judging by the acrobatics the actors performed throughout, the stage managers surely had a big task of writing up the risk assessment! Kudos to the technical team and actors alike for embracing the possibilities of theatre. This makes for an exciting watch and is political in itself.

The fight director (Kev McCurdy) and choreographer (Charlotte Broom) are due significant praise for how well the movement works throughout the production as well. Staging The Hunger Games is not an easy task for fight directors – the stage is a battlefield! The crew in its entirety should be appreciated. From their colourful and captivating use of A/V and lighting to the invasiveness and boldness of the soundscape, every technical element truly involves you in the show.

Creating a wholly successful technical production takes true theatrical craftsmanship that cannot be overlooked. However, in places, some of these creative elements do cause a tonal shift into something more gauche than the expected dystopian atmosphere. When entering the disgustingly wealthy Capitol for the first time, expecting an uncanny, grandiose, almost freaky Rocky Horror vibe, Dunster instead offers a musical number that slightly misses the mark. Ditto, the costumes of the Capitol are a bit too kitschy to be believably luxurious. This being said, it is a statement in itself to own the gaudiness of the super-rich in this story. Tamsin Carroll as Effie Trinket does this hilariously. Carroll embodies the superficial cheerfulness of Effie Trinket in her smile and walk alone. Her timing is comedic when it needs to be, and she is believably compassionate by the end thanks to her engaging character choices from the beginning.

Unfortunately, it must be said that the show strays from the original story’s anti-capitalist and anti-authoritarian themes. The team does a great job in acknowledging the dystopia, but rooting for the revolution is another thing. Certain elements are successful in finding links between the fascism in Collins’ book and modern life, like the AI-influenced, robotic technology on the big screens. Or Stavros Demetraki as Caesar Flickerman, who embodies a Hollywood-style falseness that cleverly satirises modern TV. Oh, and of course, John Malkovich as fascist President Snow is just cold, imperious and perfectly heartless on the big screen.

However, McPherson’s dialogue lacks relatability and connection and sounds more like direct quotes from the book and film. Writing dialogue for the stage is radically different from writing for books or the screen, because the actors are right in front of you! If the script lacks feeling, it’s difficult for actors to truly give an emotion to be received by the audience. Katniss (Carragher) practically doubles as narrator, and by speechifying her feelings and the plot, it’s rather difficult to believe her character fully. It’s as if by skirting around the story’s central political themes in the writing, the relatability and connection to the characters can’t be felt. Also, one of the highest points of tension, the death of 12-year-old Rue (Aiya Agustin), is just a little flat – not due to the acting, but the dampening of emotion in the writing. The gravity of a child (the age of Katniss’ sister for whom she volunteers her life) dying for the state isn’t particularly focused on; therefore, it fails to land the necessary emotional impact.

The sheer size of the stage is problematic in creating a lack of resonance in these intimate moments. Yes, the space itself is big enough to fill with all the thrilling combat and action you’d expect. A flaming chariot flies in from the ceiling, as well as boasting entire rigs to climb on and even actors who fight and shoot arrows mid-air! The size is perfect for the spectacle, but often any intimacy gets lost in the vastness of it. It is tricky to find an appropriate middle ground. Cinematically, this story works because the camera adores close moments of camaraderie and quietness that set up a context for this dystopia and allows combat to have impact. In this theatre, however, despite the brilliance of the trap which transforms into multiple sets in the centre, all the intimate action stays there – localised to a stage upon a stage – which doesn’t do justice to the delicacy of the scenes. When the paparazzi invade Katniss’ family home, the ensemble creates a tiny box with doors and walls, which is great symbolism for her social class, but it just unnecessarily obstructs the view at points when an interesting message could have been introduced. The space is impressive, but the actors must be able to fill it relatively in all its transformations. More successfully, two big screens define the arena, and moments like when they project Katniss in the games as she protests are compelling in the way they change audience perspective. This moment does relay a necessary feeling of urgency.

Either this emotional alienation is a disguised Brechtian technique, or the adaptation is a brilliant pyrotechnic gymnastics show, where the political themes inevitably come second. The Hunger Games: On Stage impresses you with bank-breaking spectacle, but is that enough to catch fire?