First came the bestselling books, next up was the global megahit series of films and now the whole carnival moves to the stage: where the Harry Potter franchise has led, The Hunger Games follows.
Yet, whereas Harry Potter boasts a brand-new story for its risk-that-paid-off-handsomely stage iteration, this Hunger Games has the disadvantage of attempting to retell events that have already been made iconic thanks to millions of Hollywood dollars – and, crucially, finds no innovative ways to re-engage with the source material. I’m disappointed to report that I found this unexcitingly staged spectacle an underwhelming trudge.
If theatre cannot compete with big-bucks film budgets, what it can offer is nonetheless priceless: the thrilling immediacy of sharing the space with a story as it unfolds. Director Matthew Dunster and adaptor Conor McPherson have both taken a less-is-more attitude for their version, opting to allow audience imagination to do its fair share of heavy lifting; this stance would be perfectly reasonable, were it not for the fact that the show is staged in an imposing new 1200-seat, purpose-built arena.
With this sort of setting, an audience understandably expects bells-and-whistles excitement; as it is, the friend who came with me commented that, “It looks like they’re running around a school gym”.
As legions of fans know, The Hunger Games is set in the dystopian state of Panem, which is ruled over from the lavish Capitol by autocratic President Snow (an eerily calm John Malkovich, appearing on giant screens in a pre-recorded turn). Each year, all 12 of Panem’s Districts must supply two young people as “tributes” for the brutal, titular fight to the death in unforgiving terrain, a hideously macabre reality show that is broadcast live to the nation.
Our heroine Katniss Everdeen (Mia Carragher), from the poorest District, 12, volunteers to go in place of her younger sister when the latter is selected in the grim “Reaping”. She’s joined by local rich(-ish) kid Peeta Mellark (Euan Garrett).
All three spheres of action – District 12, the Capitol with its galaxy of glamorous grotesques and the savage woods where the Games take place – are insufficiently evoked. The graphics on the wraparound floor-level screens are naff, and startlingly little impact is generated by having the audience placed in this daunting in-the-round oval auditorium, two blocks of whose seating move during the action. Granted, the seats are nominally arranged into “districts”, but nothing more is made of this idea.
One aspect that cannot be faulted is the energy, stamina and athleticism of the performers, many of whom come from dance backgrounds. Carragher herself must run tens of miles during each performance; her indefatigability is commendable, even though McPherson’s bewilderingly clunky script leaves her with far too much exposition to plough through.
There’s a tender supporting performance from Aiya Agustin as Rue, a sweetly steely little 12-year-old with whom Katniss forms an uneasy alliance during a rigged competition that allows for only one winner.
This could have been, should have been, a grippingly urgent piece of entertainment to set the heart racing and mind humming with potential parallels between Panem and our world today. As it is, I was mentally planning my journey home long before the end.
Booking to October 2026 (thehungergamesonstage.com)
