Tag Archives: Hiroki Berrecloth

LORD OF THE FLIES

★★★

Chichester Festival Theatre

LORD OF THE FLIES

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★

“It grips with urgency at its best, drifts and confuses at its weakest”

William Golding’s Lord of the Flies remains one of the most unsettling explorations of human behaviour. Nigel Williams’s 1995 stage adaptation brings the novel’s familiar story of boys stranded on an island into sharp relief, and Anthony Lau’s new production reframes it through stripped-back staging and a series of meta-theatrical touches. The result is uneven, at times thrilling, at others frustrating but never without interest.

The evening begins not with the boys’ arrival but with two stagehands hoovering the bare stage. When the house manager hands Piggy (Alfie Jallow) a sheet of trigger warnings to read aloud, the fourth wall is already gone. It is a playful yet unsettling opening, reminding the audience of the artifice before the story has even begun. Georgia Lowe’s set is pared back to black flight cases representing the trunks that fell from the sky when the boys’ plane crashed. The backstage area is exposed, also painted black, with rubber mats stretched across the thrust. There is no attempt to suggest a lush island, beautiful but dangerous. Instead the stage feels stark, industrial and alien.

The soundscape by Giles Thomas is striking, shifting from pounding music that vibrates through the auditorium to complete silence. In these moments the boys’ breathing and the hum of the lights are uncomfortably audible. Matt Daw’s lighting alternates between dazzling brightness, exposing every detail, and shadowed moments that heighten tension and allow the boys’ fear, viciousness and isolation to take hold. Fire is represented by hand-held smoke machines, a simple but effective image.

At the centre of the story are five more developed characters: Ralph (Sheyi Cole, making his professional debut), Piggy, Jack (Tucker St Ivany), Roger (Cal O’Driscoll) and Simon (Ali Hadji-Heshmati). The rest of the company blend into their factions, slipping convincingly between roles as loyalists and hunters. The cast vary in age, all young adults, some more convincing as schoolboys than others. Jack, used to the discipline and authority of the choir, is played with an edge of entitlement, contrasting with Ralph’s more open leadership and Piggy’s marginalised intelligence.

The decision to cast both Ralph and Piggy with Black actors adds a further social dimension, sharpening the sense of exclusion Piggy experiences and subtly shifting the class divide already present in Golding’s story. Jallow is exceptional, capturing both wit and vulnerability, anchoring the play’s moral weight. His awkwardness and honesty make him deeply affecting, and his distinct costume marks him out as different, reinforcing his insecurity. Hadji-Heshmati’s quiet collapse in Act Two, left alone with his fractured thoughts, provides one of the most powerful acting moments of the evening.

Lau’s direction keeps the energy high but sometimes at the expense of clarity. The use of house lights, scene changes in full view, and the cast announcing acts underline the theatrical frame. At times this feels fresh, but it also distances the audience from the emotional heart of the story. The production reaches its peak at the end of Act Two with Simon’s death. Staged with intensity and haunting imagery, it captures the chaos of the boys’ descent into violence. Here the stripped-back design, movement (Aline David) and fight direction (Bethan Clark) come together with real force, creating a sequence that is both shocking and unforgettable. Not all effects are as successful. A piñata, intended to represent the pig, once bashed by the boys spills sweets in a way that feels inconsistent with the production’s stripped-back design and stark atmosphere. Where Simon’s fate resonates, other symbolic choices jar, leaving the evening uneven in tone.

Too often the pacing falters. Scenes stretch, direction loses focus and the power dissipates. Themes and emotional beats become repetitive. The second death, though still disturbing, does not match the earlier high point.

This Lord of the Flies has moments of brilliance, particularly in its sound, its bold design choices and in Jallow’s performance, but the whole is inconsistent. It grips with urgency at its best, drifts and confuses at its weakest.



LORD OF THE FLIES

Chichester Festival Theatre

Reviewed on 30th September 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Manuel Harlan


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

TOP HAT | ★★★★ | July 2025
THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR | ★★★★ | May 2025
THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE | ★★★½ | January 2025
REDLANDS | ★★★★ | September 2024

 

 

LORD OF THE FLIES

LORD OF THE FLIES

LORD OF THE FLIES

OUR COSMIC DUST

★★★

Park Theatre

OUR COSMIC DUST

Park Theatre

★★★

“charmingly human and unique”

“Our Cosmic Dust” takes a heavy topic and makes it light. Paradoxically, it looks at its subject matter through a child’s eye and, by doing so, tackles the mechanisms of grief and loss with a clarity and maturity that can only come from the honesty of innocence. The emotions are loud and big, but writer and director Michinari Ozawa’s play is quiet and intimate while also allowing touches of comedy to seep into the narrative – a brave choice, like someone telling jokes at a wake.

The central character is Shotaro, a curious schoolboy who spends his night counting the stars and wondering how many more unseen stars there are in the ‘dark bits in between’. Voiced by Hiroki Berrecloth, Shotaro is brought to life in puppet form. Berrecloth is pulling the strings and through his subtle and sensitive performance he layers rich expression onto the mute, blank face of the marionette. Shotaro believes his late father is up among the stars but realises that it is humanly impossible to get there to go and look for him. Instead, he opts to search for answers closer to home. ‘Where do people go when the die?’ is his recurring question.

His mother, Yoko, finds him missing one day. What is brushed over in Ozawa’s play is the unwitting selfishness of the boy – a pointed stab at the fact that the mother is not allowed, or given time, to grieve for herself. After all she is recently widowed, but the child pulls focus. Yoko has to remain useful as the mother in search of the son in search of the father. Millie Hikasa visually expresses these conflicting emotions, while also conveying the fear of a mother losing a child. The ensuing journey mercifully gives us some light relief. The characters that Shotaro, and then Yoko, meet all adopt childlike mannerisms that keep the adult world at bay. We enter a vaguely Dr. Seuss type world as we wander from the hospital to the crematorium to the planetarium.

Nina Bowers gives a delightful performance as nurse Tara who keeps her memories locked away in the silver tooth of her late mother. Sweary and naturally crude, she teams up with Yoko on their search, enlisting crematorium worker, Alastair (Hari Mackinnon), with all his fragile and tearful rashness; and finally, the matter-of-fact keeper of the planetarium, Orion (Ian Hallard in fine form). Each persona represents various viewpoints of the sweeping spirituality versus science debate. Without lecturing, the dialogue throws innocence and experience into the pit to gently fight it out.

Eika Shimbo’s video backdrops dominate the space, occupying the entire back wall. Predominantly monochrome, there is a childish simplicity to the animation that prevents the audience being fully swept into the three-dimensional world of its characters. Our imaginations are teased but the scale of the graphics sits uneasily with the piece. Too dominant to echo the workings of our protagonists’ thoughts, yet not quite grand enough to draw us into the cosmic odyssey we are promised. Tomohiro Kaburagi’s sound evokes stronger emotions, along with the music of Orenograffiti (ORENOTE) with its ethereal pads, rhythms and lush strings.

Translated from Ozawa’s Japanese original by Susan Momoko Hingley, the dialogue is sharp, and it travels well. It is difficult to disguise the over simplified sentimentality of its conclusion, however. It has come full circle during which its orbit has been more fascinating than its destination. The young Shotaro has needed guidance but seeking it he has shown that we all need it. Loss, grief and longing isn’t the preserve of the young or the old – it is universal, and Ozawa has presented this in a charmingly human and unique way.



OUR COSMIC DUST

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 6th June 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

 


 

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

OUTPATIENT | ★★★★ | May 2025
CONVERSATIONS AFTER SEX | ★★★ | May 2025
FAREWELL MR HAFFMANN | ★★★★ | March 2025
ONE DAY WHEN WE WERE YOUNG | ★★★ | March 2025
ANTIGONE | ★★★★★ | February 2025
CYRANO | ★★★ | December 2024
BETTE & JOAN | ★★★★ | December 2024
GOING FOR GOLD | ★★★★ | November 2024
THE FORSYTE SAGA | ★★★★★ | October 2024
AUTUMN | ★★½ | October 2024

 

 

 

OUR COSMIC DUST

OUR COSMIC DUST

OUR COSMIC DUST