Coates, a history professor stripped of his credentials paces around an intimate stage. On the screen behind him is the projection of a locked door. Trapped behind that is a boy he adopted as a baby 16 years ago. Early in the show, Coates tells the audience he wants to be heard, not just listened to. His message is distilled into a simple idea that love is the antidote to historical trauma. While the connection with the audience takes a little time to settle, this conviction keeps the performance engaging as well as unsettling throughout.

It is implied and then overtly stated that everyone in the room is a ‘boy in a box’: faceless and silent, in a claustrophobic world that’s descending further into moral decay. Tension rises with the ticking of a clock that punctuates every controversial blow of this performance, which is part history lecture, part interrogation. Ultimately, Boy In A Box is an indictment of today’s world: an exploration of systemic racism and a criticism of how comfortable we’ve become with something so uncomfortable. The audience’s culpability is repeatedly emphasised, and Coates’ dramatic exit leaves his students in lingering discomfort, abandoned to the sound of a child weeping.

Boy In A Box, Gilded Balloon Patter House, until 30 August, 1.40pm; picture: BoyAtom.