By Zainab Rahim

Any story that allows children to take household matters into their own hands, beat their bullying headteacher and obtain magical powers to their advantage is bound to strike a chord with many a regular child.

If one were to whittle down Roald Dahl's classic, Matilda, to a single social concept, it would be hard decide whether to settle on bad parenting, rebellious youth, or a child's unwavering ambition. What was Dahl really encouraging here, if anything?

I watched Matilda, A Musical on the night after the student protests had reached their peak at Westminster, eerily resembling the kind of fury and anarchy Dahl once fictionalised. The ‘kettling’ tactics that the police had unnecessarily used at Parliament Square loudly corresponded to the dark, prison-like, torturing atmosphere of Crunchem Hall, Matilda's school.

It got me thinking about the perception of young people and the limits of ambition. It seems only so recently that us British folk complained profusely about the apathy of the youth of today – we cried and we wept about their sheer complacency and indifference. When, oh when, will they be provoked into action, and actually give two pennies about the world?

But alas, the wave of student protests and university occupations in early 2009 were strongly opposed by university bodies and largely ignored by the media. And since then, with the new, much larger, wave of student protests against higher tuition fees, the only word that can be mustered in wider society is "violence". We even had the wise Dappy from N-Dubz stating, "I can't believe we moan about the state of our education and health service, whereas many folk in foreign lands can only dream … I'm absolutely horrified by the readiness of youths to dispense causal violence whilst acting as if the world owes them something" in T4's Alternative Christmas Message. I hadn't realised that David Cameron had employed diamond-studded pop singers to remind us about poverty and education in the developing world. Quite inappropriate and regrettably misplaced, if I may add.

Matilda's world is brimming with children who are misunderstood, ignored, suffocated (quite literally), and not taken seriously. She leads a movement which is revolutionary and empowering for everyone at her school. Sound familiar yet?

The Royal Shakespeare Company's adaptation really hits the nail on the head – if only through the form of laughter. Producing a children's classic must be daunting for any director, but Matthew Warchus does it brilliantly, bringing together a cast who mingle effortlessly and a spectacular set.

Kerry Ingram, one of the three actresses who play Matilda on different nights, is noticeably small for her age, huggably cute, often out-of-breath, and frequently on the quest to be heard. Her angelic voice adds significantly to the performance as a whole. Her mother, played by Josie Walker, looks like she has jumped straight out of the Danny deVito film adaptation, whereas Mr Wormwood (Paul Kaye) takes a weedy demeanour and shows signs of glaring incompetence and stupidity. Matilda's brother Michael, played by Peter Howe, dons a rock star image and an abnormal mental state, all the more poignant in his 'GENIUS' hoody and backwards cap. Suffice to say, he is hilarious.

But it would be fair to claim that Bertie Carvel, who plays Miss Trunchbull, makes this production the success that it is. The use of a male actor for the infamous, dictatorial villain could not have been more apt. Scriptwriter Dennis Kelly emphasises her power-hold throughout: "If I play by the rules and I do not win, then something is wrong, something is not working, the machine has broken down...". In a scene where Trunchbull afflicts inhumane physical sports on the children, Carvel pertinently performs a song entitled The Smell of Rebellion and paints a terrific hairy and scary image.

Tim Minchin, who composed the music and lyrics, said: " I tried to be as pure as I can when interpreting the words so that the music enhances the emotion of the lyric", and indeed, the songs are a mix of classic and modern tones, all in line with the humour and emotion of the story. The accompanying choreography is similarly impressive, and occasionally surprising.

The childhood elements of the set are enhanced, with letters of the alphabet looming above the stage and two large bookcases that open and close with the varying scenes. Tables emerge from the surface of the stage, and Matilda stands atop a tall pile of books akin to the Quentin Blake illustrations.

There are also a few surprises in store. Warchus creates a deep connection between Matilda and the librarian, Mrs Phelps, which comes across as more profound than Matilda's relationship with Miss Honey.

By the end of Matilda, evil has been diminished and children are appreciated and triumphant. But when Dahl published the story in 1988, the picture he depicted was altogether more sinister:

'It's like a war,' Matilda said, overawed.

'You're darn right it's like a war,' Hortensia cried. 'And the casualties are terrific. We are the crusaders, the gallant army fighting for our lives with hardly any weapons at all and the Trunchbull is the Prince of Darkness, the Foul Serpent, the Fiery Dragon with all the weapons at her command. It's a tough life. We all try to support each other.' (Chapter 10, Throwing the Hammer)

And it is this warlike struggle between the authorities and the masses that brings me back to the current student movement. To what extent will the youth of today's society suffer in order to be heard? Will they be curbed into silence and will their rights be violated before they triumph? And finally, is there a limit to ambition?

Matilda, A Musical is showing at The Courtyard Theatre in Stratford Upon Avon until 30th January 2011.