Monkey Bars

According to almost every major indicator, the UK is—so far as the developed world is concerned—a particularly difficult place to be a child. Be it a lack of things to do, a highly materialistic culture, demonisation by the tabloid press or the fact that, statistically speaking, those under 18 are the age group most likely to be victims of violent crime, UNICEF has placed the UK bottom of its child happiness league table. 

Chris Goode wants to give a voice to these unheard children. His latest production, Monkey Bars, is verbatim theatre with a twist. In preparing the show, Goode commissioned Karl James to interview children aged eight to ten years-old about the issues affecting them: their hopes, their dreams, their fears. But, on stage, these children's words are spoken by adult actors, a conceit designed to make us pay attention to what they are saying, to treat them seriously.

Unfortunately, however, the effect is rather different. As the adults converse in a number of settings—delivering speeches on the political pulpit, facing a grilling during a job interview, discussing celebrity around the office water-cooler—the children's naivity of language and simplicity of thought is played for laughs. It's a jarring experience, which seems to be mocking the children, rather than siding with them. Of course, there are a few poignant moments—particularly when James is talking to two young muslim boys—but these segments make up only a small portion of the play.

Goode sets out to give children a voice, but the extent to which these voices are undermined throughout seems to suggest that, actually, they don't have much to say. This, one suspects, isn't quite the point he was trying to make.