Moths to a Flame: This was the World and I was King Reviewed

An intimate story about shielded innocence and the harsh realities of the Western Front


Paying the Barron theatre a visit following its successful run at the Fringe, This was the World and I was King presents an intimate story of the clash between shielded innocence and the harsh realities of the Western Front. Set within a frame narrative, the audience is invited to indulge in the youthful fantasies of Evelyn, Lily and Oliver that take place on their Uncle’s farm, whilst intermittently observing an older Evelyn reminisce and reflect upon this last period of familial bonding under the veil of childhood imagination. Needless to say the production was wonderful, and without getting too overwhelmed by the state of unbridled whimsy that I presently inhabit, I will now attempt to explain the root of the performance’s impenetrable charm.

The often-constraining performance space in the Barron served as an effective arena for the characters’ imagination. Although limited in the facilities available, the cast used the same creativity as their fictional counterparts, constructing multiple vast narratives that effortlessly overlapped, both temporally and geographically, upon the minimalist stage. The performance was accompanied by a folk band, made up of actors whose characters were off stage. The lilt of acoustic sentimentality provided a fitting backdrop to the children’s playful immaturity. Two instances of juvenile imagination coming alive are captured in moments of puppetry, in which Lily’s beloved toys are transformed into animated personalities. This feature could very easily have relegated itself to a mere gimmick, but worked perfectly within this pre-adolescent realm.

I wouldn’t like for the play’s tender charm to detract from its poignancy, as the topic it centrally handles is the traumatic experience of the trenches in WWI. Interweaving between this playful narrative is the account of a father serving, and consequently injured, in the trenches. Played brilliantly with a mixture of tenderness and psychological frailty, the returning father’s loss of wonder marks the collapse of the children’s world. They are exposed to the destruction of war through the wound their beloved father is afflicted by. Alongside an affront to innocence is the lurking subject of dwindling masculinity; the injured Uncle Andrew can no longer serve his country; fathers cannot fulfil their paternal responsibilities. The tragic reality that young boys playing with pirates would soon transform into disciplined killers heightens emotional tension; these polar worlds are destined to collide.

The closing scene, in which Evelyn’s world dismantles around her as she packs up her household belongings for the very last time, is a poignantly ephemeral one. There is still plenty I have neglected to mention, but to really understand the absorbing appeal of this intimate and engrossing drama, it is really imperative to see it yourselves. The whole experience was as if visiting an exceedingly more idyllic version of your own childhood, and if the deadlines and the looming trepidation of competitive internships have begun to quell your once youthful sense of wonder, then an hour and a half to indulge in this fantasy will come as a welcome antidote.

Catch This was the World and I was King tonight and tomorrow night at 7.30 pm in the Barron. Tickets are priced at £8 for full price, £7 for concessions (students and children). Prices are subject to a 50p booking fee per ticket online. This charge does not apply to on the door sales.

Photo courtesy of Hookich Theatre.