Sam Angell as Peter Pan Photo: Johan Persson

All this action is perfectly executed in Act One, but in Act Two begins to drag: the over-long fight sequences (as brilliantly choreographed as they are) take away valuable time from Barrie’s story, meaning that the final confrontation between Wendy (a spunky Cora Kirk) and Peter seems cut short, denying us a potentially moving scene about the acceptance and inevitability of adulthood.

Still, the production’s real strength comes from the interweaving of the war with Barrie’s narrative. The action is never entirely transposed to another world: soldiers can still be seen sheltering in the dugouts that surround the stage, trooping in formation for set changes. The war bleeds into the design and puppetry, too, all of which is composed of materials that would have been available at a field hospital: wooden ladders, lanterns, gas masks and even regulation pyjamas. Even when the hospital beds are turned into the gardens of Neverland, they are filled with poppies.

Cora Kirk as Wendy, with the lost boys Photo: Johan Persson

Sheader successfully reminds us that this generation of youths really were the lost boys: some of whom had to grow up too fast, but many of whom never got the chance. These were the very children who first watched Peter Pan at the Duke of York’s Theatre in 1904, called up to fight ten years later. With this in mind, original lines from Barrie’s script take on a haunting new relevance: Captain Hook’s order for “the obliteration of youth” and Wendy’s hope that the boys “die like English gentlemen” send shivers up the spine. The death of these innocent children is no less horrifying 100 years on.

Captivating and magical, the tale of Peter Pan still has the power to entertain and delight modern audiences, but takes on new relevance in Sheader’s ambitious adaptation. He has remained true to its spirit by creating a joyous fairytale for children, but also crafting a blistering, thought-provoking drama for adults.