WHEN I first read Lord of the Flies at the age of 16 I was deeply shaken but oddly fascinated by the story of average schoolboys stranded on an island, slowly turning into bloodthirsty barbarians.

At the time, I thanked my lucky stars I’d been spared (so far) the ordeal of being marooned with my classmates with no food, no rules to speak of, our moral compasses and survival instincts tested to their very core.

While rather far-fetched, William Golding’s wild imaginings did not seem completely unrealistic. At a more radical and nuclear level adults had turned on each other in similarly brutal and cruel ways. Even back then I sensed, as I did once more at the premiere of Regent’s Park Theatre’s new adaption of the novel that the ‘beast’ – referred to over and over by the boys, a grim metaphor for the murkiness lurking inside all of us – showed in the right or wrong set of circumstances anyone can be driven to the worst.

The play opens onto an incredible scene of carnage: the wreckage of a plane which had been flying children evacuees to safety in the midst of an unspecified war. A mound of suitcases and bag spills out of the metal shell and clothes are strewn across the beach. A handful of young survivors emerge from the debris. Initially unfazed at the situation, and excited for a desert island adventure, tension soon rises over who will be chief and they split into two factions: the hunters led by private school prefect and choirboy Jack and the rest, who follow the meek but well-meaning Ralph. Before long the situation descends into chaos and bloodshed as they vie for power.

The cast are superb and all portray the lost boys with great maturity and precision. Freddie Watkins is flawless as the hunters’ leader Jack, who demands total submission and blind allegiance from his clan at all cost.

Matthew Castle also delivers the most chilling performance of the production as Roger, whose thirst for blood and mayhem has no bounds. From a surly teenager he becomes a fearless and unstoppable mercenary.

The slow-motion interludes showing the boys dancing like tribal warriors wielding makeshift spears or pouncing on their prey like feral animals are a stroke of genius. As time slows, the audience is given thinking space, making what they witness all the more brutal and disturbing.

Regent’s Park Theatre’s transposition of Lord of the Flies to the 21st century, selfies and all is all the more unnerving and close to the bone.

Challenging and heart-wrenching, it is a triumph.

Lord of the Flies is on at the Theatre Royal Bath until Saturday, January 16.

Marion Sauvebois