Written, Directed, and Choreographed by Kate Prince

Review by Dominic Corr

The Festival Theatre

Pankhurst. Sometimes a name is a loaded weapon; all it needs is a trigger. When Kate Prince’s (book by Price and Priya Parmar) high-octane, choreographic musical Sylvia swept onto stages in 2023, it immediately smelled of something special. Touring, now at The Festival Theatre in Edinburgh, it seizes that formidable legacy not as a dusty museum exhibit, but as a living, breathing pulse of rhythm, soul, and righteous fury. Conceived, written, directed, and choreographed by Prince, this bold theatrical hybrid fuses hip-hop, funk, and contemporary dance to re-examine the fierce internal fractures within the women’s suffrage movement, transforming historical archives into a breathtakingly kinetic explosion of performance art. It’s ferocious, bold, and likely to ruffle all of the right feathers from behind their keyboards.

Price’s narrative engine traces the ideological schism tearing through Britain’s most famous activist family. While Emmeline Pankhurst drives the militant, uncompromising engine of the Women’s Social and Political Union, her younger daughter Sylvia finds herself increasingly alienated by the movement’s middle-class exclusivity, championing the grassroots struggles of East End working-class women. Trust us: this is a finer example of a history lesson than any VHS your teacher has in the cupboard. This painful generational tug-of-war forms a compelling dramatic spine, charting how a shared vision for female enfranchisement fractures under the weight of differing tactical philosophies.

The historical canvas expands further to capture the brutal political ecosystem facing these pioneers. Prince’s book proves refreshingly unflinching in confronting the political establishment, casting Castell Parker’s Winston Churchill as the formidable opponent he so frequently was to the suffrage cause; though his clowning too often dilutes the genuine threat the man posed to these women. He locks ideological horns with Tachia Newall’s principled Keir Hardie and Cleve September’s pragmatic Lloyd George, while Uzuazo O’David’s Harry Pankhurst and Collette Guitart’s Clementine Churchill ground the turbulence in complex domestic ripples, offering far more intimate details and backdrops to both the Pankhurst family and Parliament procedures; both providing stellar solos and comedy.

Translating this monumental political upheaval into sheer emotional resonance are performances of staggering vocal and theatrical magnitude. Headlining the production, the iconic Beverley Knight commands the Edinburgh auditorium with effortless majesty as Emmeline Pankhurst, anchoring the production’s emotional core through soaring, soul-stirring vocals that turn fierce political rhetoric into deeply personal poetry. There’s a genuine ripple of passion from Knight; this isn’t only a show she’s keen to be a part of, you can tell it’s something special to her.

Around her, a stellar supporting cast fleshes out the complex relational dynamics. Naomi Katiyo delivers a luminous, fiercely impassioned turn as the titular Sylvia, capturing the heartbreaking gulf between maternal expectation and individual conscience, while Ellena Vincent brings sharp, unwavering resolve to the dogmatic Christabel Pankhurst. Every member of the ensemble commits utterly to the dramatic stakes, keeping the audience intensely invested in a historical battle that crackles with modern urgency.

Visually and stylistically, the production matches its narrative ambition with a sleek, contemporary aesthetic. Natasha Chivers and Hector Murray’s lighting enough to co-ordinate a full stadium tour; while Ben Stone’s set allows for movement to be utilised to the max, and offers an opportunity for the live band to take an equal share in the action. Prince’s relentlessly demanding choreography relies on sharp geometric lines and athletic precision rather than traditional period recreation. Curiously – and perhaps controversially for purists – the staging neglects the traditional purple, white, and green palette historically associated with the movement, opting instead for a monochromatic, urban-tinged visual language that strips away period costume clichés in favour of raw physical expression.

While the sheer density of historical information occasionally threatens to crowd the dramatic pacing, any overstuffed moments are swiftly swept away by the unadulterated electricity humming through the company. As the final, thunderous beats reverberate through the Festival Theatre, Sylvia leaves behind an indelible, soaring reminder that the fight for equality was never a polite negotiation, but a hard-won revolution hammered out in sweat, harmony, and unyielding defiance. An explosive, soul-stirring masterclass in modern protest, Sylvia proves revolution has a rhythm all its own.

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