Picnic at Hanging Rock @ The Lyceum, Edinburgh

Review by Amy Taylor | 23 Jan 2017

Joan Lindsay’s novel Picnic at Hanging Rock, originally published in 1967 and later immortalised by Peter Weir's 1975 film of the same name, has become something of a fascination for artists across various disciplines. Detailing the sudden and unexplained disappearance of three teenage schoolgirls and their teacher on Valentine’s Day 1900, Matthew Lutton’s production delves deep into the unknowns of the supposedly-true story. Just what happened to the girls and their teacher that afternoon at Hanging Rock?

The new stage adaptation by Tom Wright, a co-production between Australia’s Malthouse Theatre and Black Swan State Theatre Company, retains the sinister edge of the novel and film, transporting the action from the remote Australian outback to a dark minimalist set, upon which the disappearances (and their aftermath) create a world of intrigue and sinister forces.

Lutton’s production is sublimely unsettling; scenes of the schoolgirls are punctuated with blackouts, an eerie soundscape, and a mix of contemporary and period costume. The cast of five begin as narrators but slowly become the key characters: the schoolgirls themselves, teachers, police, and the last people to see the missing foursome on that fateful day.

There is also a sixth character that dominates proceedings, however: that of the Australian landscape itself. Never sighted on stage, but reimaged through sounds, words and lighting, the outback is a battleground for the traditional, imperial values of the British settlers and the silent, mysterious nature of the aboriginal landscape. In a sense, it’s as if the disappearances are the consequence, the terrible price paid for colonisation.  

Picnic at Hanging Rock is a rich, dark theatrical tapestry that explores the horror of loss, yet never loses the powerful ambiguity or dread of the original text. This is an unforgettable, if not utterly disturbing piece of work.


Until 28 Jan 2017