Emil and the Detectives, National Theatre.

Picture from 59 Productions.

Emil and the detectives was a post new year trip arranged on the train up to London to visit some friends. In an effort to prevent ourselves from drinking all day we chose a show, met in the foyer with minutes to spare, ripped the tickets from the machine, ran in and plonked ourselves down before turning to each other with a look of horror 'This show is full of f*****g kids!'.



Now I have to confess at this point that I did have a notion that there would probably be a high kid content. The play is based upon the book which itself influenced the film or films (there have been five) which concern the exploits of the eleven year old Emil and 'the detectives'; a self dubbed bunch of Berlin's finest pre-pubescent private investigators.

Emil is a good kid. He loves his mother and despite dabbling in a bit of playful, statue + moustache based graffiti, his heart and soul is in the right place. His widowed mother is a loving but open minded sort who is happy enough to send him off on the train to Berlin to deposit the money she has saved for his grandma. This money is then, predictably enough, stolen on the train, by the predatory Mr Snow (in a scene unfortunately reminiscent of 'When Paedophiles attack'). This act then prompts the gathering of the various 'detectives' and a hunt through the monochromatic streets of Berlin.

Unlike other National shows, there is no star in Emil and the detectives unless, of course you mean Bunny Christie's set which could quite easily flash and glower all by itself, without the kids sprawling all over it. The sets aesthetic, with it's monochromatic colour scheme and mass of converging neon lines perfectly evokes the iconic films of the german expressionist era. The set overshadows the performers, illustrating both the perspective of the children and evoking the fears of this industrial new world. Yet the set does not metaphorically overshadow the performers; plenty of space is left for commuters to dance with streetlights or children to perform figures of 8 on bikes.

However, it is at the play's climax, when the production breaks free of its modernist restraints and the chase extends to the auditorium, when the play really comes into its own. As the kids run through the aisles, cascades of money floating onto the audience's heads, they terrifyingly descend upon Mr Snow in the manner of Children of the Corn. A raucously playful reminder that whilst the adults have the key to the city right now, the future generation, presently at the mercy of financial swings, might rise up together to take back what's theirs.