Rating: 2/5

If any event in our recent history requires urgent political analysis, then the August 2011 riots do.

They are the focus of Alecky Blythe’s new play and her approach to theatre  —  verbatim recordings of events, the voices of bystanders and local residents edited together into a script — ought to prove thought-provoking and revelatory in relation to the shameful events of three summers ago.

Blythe’s piece is well-intended, seeking as it does to celebrate people who bridge the class divide. But Little Revolution is not the play to help us understand the causes and ultimate meaning of the riots. The cut-and-pasted script eschews an overall narrative and, without a controlling voice, there is no analysis — a woeful inadequacy in the face of such a significant event. 

In Blythe’s earlier success London Road everyday language is elevated through musical theatre into a thing of beauty, resonance and meaning.  Here, there’s no music to clarify the muddled thinking, bigoted opinions, fragmented thoughts, non sequiturs and contradictions. 

In failing to process any ideas or answer big questions, Little Revolution simply doesn’t address the question posed by its own title — whether the riots were a little revolution or not — and it comes across as a kind of theatrical vox pop. 

Staged as an ensemble piece in the round, the actors and an enthusiastic community chorus of non-professionals effectively create the sound of rioting offstage as helicopters and searchlights hover overhead. Yet there are elements bordering on parody, as in Blythe’s self-portrayal of middle-class playwright Alecky, with Imogen Stubbs and Michael Shaeffer as “ordinary people” Sarah and Tony also hovering dangerously close to caricature. 

With dialogue expressing undeveloped opinions in the immediacy of events, it’s unclear how seriously the audience should take the idea, expressed by one character, that the riots can be blamed on police powers or the view of the barber Colin, subtly played by Lucian Msamati, that it was the best day of the rioters’ lives — “the first time they’ve ever stood up for themselves.” 

Leaning far too heavily on immersion and emotion, when what’s required is some Brechtian distance, for all its celebration of community Little Revolution’s characters continually express selfish motives for participating in the healing process and rival residents battle for ownership of the story. 

A depressingly individualistic — even Thatcherite — representation of “ordinary” people, this little revolution doesn’t lift the sprits.

Runs until October 4. Box office: almeida.co.uk