The complete absence of sopranos with the chorus made up entirely of grown men set up against Jack, who is still unmistakably a boy in contrast, is so, sooooo haunting. It's just the omen of what Jack believes he must become: A man... that is also the product of privilege, western indoctrination, rigid gender roles, and neoimperialism.
He becomes the man he both hates and loves the most: his father.
And what makes the transformation so forboding is that Jack spends the entire episode unconsciously resisting it. He is afraid, openly so, when he relies on Roger and Maurice for help after climbing a cliff far too large for him to conquer. He let's Simon paint his face and gives in to the worried warrior for a little while during that private, intimate moment between them. He later (after the hunt) adorns his face with makeup and inadvertently undermines the binary belief that strength must equal the traditional masculine appearance.
Then the fire goes out.
And Ralph, almost before saying anything else or even truly scolding him, asks Jack, "What on earth are you wearing?"
And in that moment Jack realizes the man he's made and had originally been proud of is not enough. He'd stacked the wood high enough so the fire wouldn't go out, he caught a pig for everyone to eat, he found clean clothes and toothpaste to share. He had good intentions. But clearly that isn't sufficient , and that's not the kind of man that is appreciated or wanted. That's not the kind of man people will respect. That kind of man is asked to explain himself.
So Jack destroys him.
He sheds the makeup first and in its place, Jack later adopts something uglier but safer. The blue eyeshadow is replaced with paint scraped from the earth, becomes something dirty and crude. It makes his less readable, less human, less vulnerable. It hides the boy in him completely, and his face becomes that of a jaded tyrant.
Down the line he also sheds Simon, and even without knowing it was him, he still revels in the severing. It is Jack finally ridding himself of his only witness, the gentle mirror. The only one who knows what they did during Christmas leave. Simon’s death clears the last space where Jack could have remained ambiguous and tender and unformed.
This is the man Jack chooses to be. He shows no weakness and no empathy. He doesn’t ask for help, he commands it, and savors when those around him say please. He rages and shouts, and the only time he ever cries is from fury.
In becoming him, Jack finally fulfills the prophecy the chorus sings over him.
He becomes a man. He becomes his father. And in doing so, he kills the very last version of himself that might have survived.
