A Very British Childhood

Exploring the stultifying claustrophobia of suburban England in the mid-1960s, A Very British Childhood portrays a world of rigid gender roles, nosy neighbours and smiling, happy children. At least, this childhood is idyllic on the surface, but the narrative probes the casual brutalities of stifling conservative social norms. Focusing on an apparently perfect family consisting of domestic goddess mother, commuting father, son and daughter, who spend their days romping in the woods, the play tries to unpick a form of Englishness where politeness becomes an effective weapon of control.

This utopia is shattered when one of the children's friends goes missing. The ensuing investigation implicates family members and others in the community, and subsequent revelations demonstrate the lies adults must tell in order to maintain order. The simple, elliptical dialogue, coupled with primary-colour costume design, are stylistic effects intended to imply the oddity within the mundane.

But there's little to see here that isn't well-worn. The horrors of supposedly-perfect suburbia have been probed more effectively in countless books, film and television shows, and the revelations that arise are presented leadenly and carry little emotional heft. It's also unclear why a play whose design looks like the 1950s insists it is set in the 1960s, and what that historical setting is meant to suggest. Is the implication that the problems presented are thankfully now in the past, or are we invited to see modern-day parallels? There is little guidance on how we should make sense of this depiction of family sin.