Why, in politically correct times, can a word like chav - redolent with snobbery, sounding like a sneer and delivered like a slap - still be heard in everyday conversations? The answer underpins Luke Barnes' cracking new play No One Will Tell Me How to Start a Revolution which provides a snapshot of the lives of three working class sisters transplanted to a middle class school by an aspirational dad. Suzie, Edwina, and Lucy are smart but a little wild and a lot untutored. Their dad knew the first step, but they need the system to provide the roadmap out of poverty...
No One Will Tell Me How to Start a Revolution is gloriously uplifting and horribly chastening: a celebration of youth and an indictment of the schools and communities that collude to punish the behaviours that are markers of deprivation. Few people at the bottom have time to read books on fast-tracking children's learning, or instilling discipline, or embedding social skills and manners. On their arrival at school, the girls' peers label them chavs and their elders penalise them for what they've never been taught and therefore cannot deliver. Within weeks the odds are loaded against them.
This makes No One Will Tell Me How to Start a Revolution sound bleak, but Anna Ledwich's production is rude with life and joy and the hopes and dreams of youth. Even when grim reality hits and Edwina is forced to compromise herself to pay the rent, they remain bewildered but hopeful. It is the audience that recognises the pattern. Without the information that shows you how to challenge a system, you never can.
In Conclusion: Crackling with energy, No One Will Tell Me How to Start a Revolution draws superb performance from Charlotte Beaumont, Helen Monks, and Sophie Melville. My companion for the evening has very different politics to me, and was equally moved to chew over the nuts and bolts of social injustice. At £12 a ticket, this is a great 90 minutes of theatre.
No One Will Tell Me How to Start a Revolution is gloriously uplifting and horribly chastening: a celebration of youth and an indictment of the schools and communities that collude to punish the behaviours that are markers of deprivation. Few people at the bottom have time to read books on fast-tracking children's learning, or instilling discipline, or embedding social skills and manners. On their arrival at school, the girls' peers label them chavs and their elders penalise them for what they've never been taught and therefore cannot deliver. Within weeks the odds are loaded against them.
This makes No One Will Tell Me How to Start a Revolution sound bleak, but Anna Ledwich's production is rude with life and joy and the hopes and dreams of youth. Even when grim reality hits and Edwina is forced to compromise herself to pay the rent, they remain bewildered but hopeful. It is the audience that recognises the pattern. Without the information that shows you how to challenge a system, you never can.
In Conclusion: Crackling with energy, No One Will Tell Me How to Start a Revolution draws superb performance from Charlotte Beaumont, Helen Monks, and Sophie Melville. My companion for the evening has very different politics to me, and was equally moved to chew over the nuts and bolts of social injustice. At £12 a ticket, this is a great 90 minutes of theatre.
Hampstead Theatre Downstairs, Eton Avenue, London NW3. Run ends 21 October
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