The National is set upon thrilling juvenile audiences again. Helen Edmundson's adaptation of Jamila Gavin's novel Coram Boy bears no comparison with the mighty dramatisation of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials at the National.
It lacks the epic form, imaginative scope and futuristic fantasising of that extraordinary work. Yet this National project marks another brave attempt to make theatre intellectually provocative and emotionally seductive for intelligent young audiences.
Not having read Miss Gavin's novel, I cannot vouch for the adaptation's fidelity. Miss Edmundson, though, does artfully draw together 18th-century high and low society; talented, young musicians, cruel fathers and put-upon sons, unwanted babies and child traffickers are all caught in a Dickensian chain of coincidences and contrivances.
The melodramatic mix is not to my flinty taste and director Melly Still, surely too inexperienced to take the Olivier helm, frequently litters the stage with a confusing surfeit of activity.
Despite a revolving stage, the odd high-flying angel and a feeble attempt with the aid of clingfilm to suggest a suicidal jump into the sea, the murky design by Ti Green and Miss Still herself is unspectacularly minimalist.
It centres upon a vast organ, with a little Handelian band placed rear-stage: Adrian Sutton's jubilant variations on a theme from Messiah offer lovely, ironic counterpointing to the turbulent and sensational incidents. The play's tone is pitched high, shrill and hectic.
Paternal, aristocratic intolerance and sex-play that goes too far affect the lives of two music-mad, teenage choristers, aristocratic Alexander and humble Thomas, their younger selves perversely played in genderparody style by Anna Madeley and Abby Ford. On the fringe of their lives hovers Paul Ritter's sinister Otis Gardiner. This murderous dispatcher of misbegotten babies to unmarked graves reflects the period's hypocritical, sanctimonious spirit, to which Otis's son - Jack Tarlton's impressive, tormented simpleton, the angel-seeking Meshak - provides a religiose antidote.
Years later at the Coram Foundling Hospital, Miss Madeley, now unbelievably masquerading as Aaron aged eight, entrances Mr Handel while he sings to the manner born. Despair, disaster and death lead inexorably into the land of reunions, fairy-tale sweetness and true-love triumphant for Bertie Carvel's adult Alexander.
Until 4 February. Information: 020 7452 3000.
Coram Boy
