The Children’s Inquiry at Southwark Playhouse Elephant review: an extraordinary piece of theatre
This verbatim musical about children in the UK care system, performed by 13 to 18-year-olds, is extraordinary. Devised and written over five years by Helen Monks and director Matt Woodhead of campaigning theatre company Lung, it interweaves the stories of four contemporary teenagers with a broad sweep of history. That it’s baggy and sometimes confusing doesn’t undermine its achievement or its importance.
The lyrics are drawn from new and archival interviews with parents, carers, social workers and especially kids, the modern youngsters’ contributions authentically studded with the words “like”, “right”, “yeah” and “um”. Composers Owen Crouch and Clementine Douglas fit them into a zippy soundtrack that embraces everything from beatboxy electro to doo-wop.
The closest thing to it I can think of is Alecky Blythe’s verbatim musical London Road, about the Ipswich serial murders, and that was done by grown-ups at the National Theatre.
Here, the victims interrogate the system rather than vice versa. The cast I saw displayed pugnacious vivacity and some truly remarkable voices. Two ensembles will perform on alternate nights, and all the actors are listed in the publicity material alphabetically, without identifying who plays who, presumably for reasons of safeguarding or fairness.
It’s probably right that I can’t single out individuals in such a collective endeavour. But the strongest, most soulful voice on opening night belonged to the girl playing Jelica, who tries to keep herself and her sister together as her family is split apart. Meanwhile Frank has been through eight foster homes, some of them horrifically violent. Amber and Angelica’s parents were deported to Ghana and they were put into care.
These stories are set against attempts and repeated failures over the course of 130 years by governments to protect children from harm. Each new plan or fiasco is heralded by the tolling of Big Ben. The 1896 conviction and execution of Amelia Dyer, paid to adopt children she then murdered, led to the first child protection act three years later.
We zip through the First World War, Spanish flu, the Second World War, and the Child Migration Scheme that relegated countless, parentless children to lives of sexual abuse and forced labour in Australia.
Then there’s Cold War panic, Wilson’s devaluation of the pound, Thatcher’s animus against gay foster carers and the invention of the internet. Then Blairism, the death of Baby P, the demise of Kids’ Company, austerity, Covid. A final scene brings us right up to date, with Keir Starmer’s “change starts here” joining the roster of recorded or re-voiced Prime Ministerial soundbites.
This scattergun survey of the road that led to where we are now could do with some pruning. The juxtaposition of stories from different timelines can be jolting. But diversions into the experiences of social workers, or addicted mothers, express the embracing humanity of the project, and showcase the confidence of the young cast. This show isn’t for everyone, but it’s a singular piece of theatre.
Southwark Playhouse Elephant, to Aug 3; southwarkplayhouse.co.uk
