Writer: Conor McPherson, based on the novel by Suzanne Collins
Director: Matthew Dunster
The Hunger Games has been one of the most successful YA franchises of recent years. Suzanne Collins’ original trilogy of novels was adapted into four blockbuster movies, making Jennifer Lawrence a star. Set in a post-war version of North America now known as Panem, every year two teenagers from each of the country’s 12 districts are dispatched to the Capitol, the nation’s seat of power, and forced to enter a Battle Royale from which only one of the 24 contestants will survive.
While Collins has moved to creating prequels set in the same world, which are not quite setting the world on fire as much as the original works did, there is clearly some mileage left in the original work. That is in evidence in The Hunger Games: On Stage, an ambitious theatrical adaptation of the first novel in the original trilogy, performed in a new custom-built venue in Canary Wharf, which one might charitably describe as London’s Capitol with the capital.
Conor McPherson’s script is billed as an adaptation of both the original novel and its screen adaptation (which receives credit for its production company, Lionsgate, but not for its writers Collins, Gary Ross and Billy Ray). McPherson’s dialogue hews closely to the novel’s spirit. In contrast, the film’s influences feel far more aligned with the production design, particularly Moi Tran’s costume designs for Capitol residents, who seem to live in the sort of world a 1970s David Bowie music video would imagine the future would look like.
Miriam Buether’s set is primarily constructed in the round, enhancing the arena feel throughout, even though the battle itself does not start until Act II. Banks of seats on either end of the space route in and out, forcing the space into both thrust and traverse configurations for some scenes. Whether director Matthew Dunster really needs such reconfiguration is debatable; at times, it feels more health-and-safety driven, allowing some of the flying and wire work to take place without the actors ever going directly over the audience’s heads.
Mia Carragher, making her stage debut, is impressive as the teenage Katniss, who volunteers to enter the games when her young sister’s name is pulled out of her district’s lottery. With such a large arena space to play in, her voice and presence are ever-present, an effective combination of both her portrayal and Ian Dickinson’s sound design.
Beside her, Euan Garrett’s Peeta, her fellow District 12 competitor and potential love interest, fulfils the role of arms’ length mystery man admirably. But it’s the gaudy Capitol residents, led by Tamsin Carroll’s Effie Trinket (a character underserved here – as in the original book, she is a cypher who only expands in the sequels) and Stavros Demetraki as Caesar Flickerman, the flamboyant Emcee of the games’ television coverage.
McPherson’s script sticks to the novel structure, which means that Act I is, bar its opening sequences in the poverty-stricken coal-mining district of Katniss’ homeland, exclusively in the Capitol. Theatrical limitations mean that its sumptuousness doesn’t quite come across. The training sequences under the eye of Joshua Lacey’s dipsomaniac Haymitch suit the environment much better, as well as illustrating some of the show’s impressively subtle illusion work to make the story’s trademark use of archery thrilling while in perfect safety.
But for the buildup to a lethal battle, the whole of Act I feels like it lacks any sort of tension. Katniss may be entering the 74th annual Hunger Games, by which there may be some in-world ennui; for us, watching our first, one would hope for more tension. Partly that’s down to an energy-sapping portrayal by John Malkovich, on video screens, as President Snow. There is little to no menace, much less any other form of emotion, in his sequences. And like a Nazi Bagpuss, when Snow comes across as half-asleep, so does the Capitol. There are occasional fun moments, most often involving Charlotte Broom’s choreography, of which one always desires more.
In Act II, matters improve somewhat as the focus switches to the battle arena. Some of the opening melées are confusingly fumbled, with direction and choreography not quite knowing what the narrative through line in a mass brawl should be. Matters improve as the contestant numbers dwindle. Use of lighting gantries descending from the ceiling to represent the trees in which Katniss hides rely a little too much on the knowledge of the original book, as do the references to the Cornucopia, a central repository of supplies and food – easy to get to but which leaves any contestant vulnerable to attack and murder.
That cache starts off as a collection of backpacks slung from the roof, but reappears as a physical structure near the end as a necessity for the game’s final showdown to appear on top of the structure. While it is understandable that this show has been created for admirers of the books and films, who already know the work inside out, at times it feels as if The Hunger Games: On Stage leans so heavily on that knowledge to fill in the gaps that it fails to make the effort.
Nowhere is this more apparent than after the Games themselves have ended, and the return to the Capitol becomes reduced to an almost barren stage. It feels almost as if the production – which clearly struggled to start preview performances while the theatre was still under construction – had run out of time to complete the staging and design right to the very end of the play.
There are moments of inventiveness, thrilling drama and impressive action sequences, particularly in the battle arena. The Hunger Games is certainly unlike much other theatre out there at the moment. It harks back to that pre-Covid fad of trying to stage big theatre shows in arena-sized venues, but scaled down to keep the excess ever so slightly in check.
But what is also scaled back is the emotional connection. The Hunger Games worked in its novel form because we felt like we were in there with Katniss, by her side in battle. Here, we are the spectators for whom The Hunger Games are a gladiatorial sideshow. And we crave more than this production ultimately delivers.
Runs until 25 October 2026
