The Boy at the Back of the Class at Rose Theatre, Kingston and on tour – review

Skilfully adapted by Nick Ahad from the award-winning book by Onjali Q Raúf, this production is aimed squarely at the middle grade (8 to 12) demographic and tells the moving story of a refugee boy and his experience adapting to life at a British school.

When shy nine-year-old Ahmet takes an empty chair at the back of Mrs Khan’s class, he arouses the interest of classmates Alexa, Tom, Josie and Michael, who become intrigued by his story and eager to help track down his missing parents. They form an ‘A Team’ to conduct this seemingly impossible mission (cue theme tune), and help him deal with the stigma that’s attached to his refugee status, which makes him a target for the school bully and even a teacher.

Monique Touko’s dynamic, pop-infused production does a good job of keeping up the momentum of the story, aided by Lily Arnold’s adaptable gymnasium set. It moves seamlessly between the classroom, the playground, and the home of Alexa, who finds common ground with Ahmet having lost her own father. Although the narrative can feel a little trite at points, and is clearly set six years ago (the denouement features a shadow puppet Queen), there is no doubting its pertinence given the ongoing race to the moral bottom among our elected leaders with their ‘stop the boats’ campaign.

Ahmet, who is from Syria and speaks Kurdish, initially struggles to communicate, but a clever twist at the halfway point sees him break the fourth wall to speak directly to the audience. This invites us to become more than just witnesses, but advocates, whilst also highlighting a straightforward but oft-forgotten truth about refugees; they’re people like us (it’s good to see that the production is partnering with a range of refugee charities).

The energetic cast ensure plenty of humour alongside the more serious messaging, especially via Abdul-Malik Janneh’s nerdy Michael, Gordon Millar’s American Tom and Petra Joan-Athene’s hamster-obsessed Josie, alongside Zoe Zak’s loud-mouthed market trader (she also portrays the bigoted Mr Irons). Priya Davdra neatly doubles as the saintly Mrs Khan and Alexa’s equally angelic Mum, while Joe McNamara imbues bully Brendan with an intriguing vulnerability. Sasha Desouza-Willock captures both Alexa’s childish innocence and piercing insight, and Farshid Rokey makes for a highly sympathetic Ahmet.

There are a slew of page-to-stage adaptations aimed at younger audiences, so it can be hard to stand out from the crowd. However, this manages to feel not just engaging and relatable, but educational in the best sense. It was heartening to see the press night audience cheering for Ahmet (my daughter included), and no doubt the many children who will see the production will feel similarly. Raúf’s story acts like a much-needed empathy machine for a country that is in danger of losing its moral compass.