Former teacher Mark Davies Markham realised the time had come to get out of education when a student threatened him with a bread knife. His wife still works in a school, however, and his comedy set in a failing Liverpool primary is a fiercely funny indictment of the pressures faced by teachers to keep abreast of education policy.
The overstretched staff at St Jude's primary are still smarting from a damning Ofsted report when they face a media visit from an ambitious minister determined to throw his weight around. It's not subtle: Colin Hoult's patronising, potty-mouthed politician is such a hiss-and-boo figure he almost warrants a puff of green smoke; and it's hard to believe that a senior parliamentarian would submit to being bound, gagged and humiliated. At least, not without paying for the privilege.
The second half reveals more serious intent, however, as the minister's discomfort mirrors the constraints placed on teachers in the Gradgrind-ish pursuit of facts. One by one their grievances are aired: from the senior member of staff who pays for the breakfast club cereal out of her own pocket, to a newly qualified graduate ready to quit because his salary barely covers his student debt.
There's a clear sense that it is ultimately the children who suffer. As one of the staff points out: "A girl in year six asked me what the learning objective was supposed to be. I was taking the register." Ken Alexander's ebullient production swings between belly laughs and pin-drop silence; and though the writing tends to favour caricature over characterisation, Richard Foxton's design captures the crumbling fabric of a failing institution – conclusive proof that to gauge the state of the nation, you only need look at the state of the staffroom.
