★★★★

“a heart-warming story with an unexpected ending”

Three black walls, a black floor, a running machine and a giant exercise ball. One remarkable solo writer-performer. That’s what it takes to make one heck of a show at Reading Rep.

Harriet Madeley is an award-winning writer, actor, producer and co-director of the theatre company Crowded Room which ‘specialises in true stories that get people talking’. Mid-way through writing a new play about death – the subject no-one wants to talk about that we have all but airbrushed out of our lives – the wheel of fate took an unexpected turn. Madeley was diagnosed with a rare and chronic disease called Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis (PSC). The condition, which attacks the liver and bile ducts, affects around seven in every million in the UK. Life expectancy of sufferers can be as short as ten years and there is, as yet, no cure.

On stage Harriet Madeley becomes a ditsy journalist called Olive who must recruit interviewees for an article about terminal illness. When Olive finds herself similarly diagnosed, her own life unravels in a rapidly descending spiral of laugh out loud comic moments. She even wonders whether her own death could become her own best career break yet.

The show does not flag for a second as Madeley interacts with recordings and delivers a series of reflective monologues on her condition. As those around her struggle to accept her fate and she goes off at a very unexpected tangent, we get to know Olive’s fiancée, parents and friends in a heart-warming story with an unexpected ending.

With simple and effective video and lighting by Megan Lucas, sound by Bella Kear and some smart direction from Madelaine Moore, this thought provoking new play more than merits its Summerhall Lustrum Award for Unforgettable Theatre. It is a warm and life-enhancing version of the performer’s own terminal diagnosis story and deserves to run and run.

THE KING’S SPEECH at the Watermill Theatre

★★★★

“Peter Sandys-Clarke gives an excellent performance as the ‘dear, dear man’ held in a vocal prison by his childhood trauma.”

Playwright David Seidler (1937–2024) developed a stammer at the age of three as his family travelled from the UK to the US in the early years of World War II. One of three ships in their convoy was destroyed by German U-Boats. Many kinds of speech therapy failed him until at the age of 16, and in a frustrated rage he shouted out the F-word.

Out of this traumatic experience came a playwright, and also his most memorable work, the screenplay for the film The King’s Speech, which is based on a true story. But Seidler’s wife said ‘why don’t you write it as a play?’, realising that the spatial limitations of theatre would enable it to focus on the key relationship at the heart of the piece. The 2010 film, starring Colin Firth and Geoffrey Rush, was produced to great acclaim and won four Academy Awards. In 2012 the play opened in Guildford before touring the world in nine different languages.

The delightfully intimate Watermill Theatre is The Stage’s Theatre of the Year and has a reputation for unique shows which last long in the memory. This revival brilliantly embodies that tradition.

Directed by former Almeida resident director Emma Butler with insightful lighting by Ryan Day, and striking costume and set design by Bretta Gerecke, the play sheds new light on a much-loved and deeply poignant story.

The first act moves rapidly with a lot of plot to cover and many brief scenes, with a greater and more compelling focus after the interval.

If you have seen the film, you will recall that the relationship between the future King George VI (Peter Sandys-Clarke) and his wayward speech therapist Lionel Logue (Arthur Hughes) is the nub of the story. ‘Bertie’ the monarch-to-be is inventively dressed as ‘a thing of threads and patches’ – in a half-made suit that symbolises his status as a future king and as a stutterer ‘trapped in a broken body over which he has no control’. This symbolism is echoed in the set which consists largely of a disordered arc of swirling timber.

Peter Sandys-Clarke gives an excellent performance as the ‘dear, dear man’ held in a vocal prison by his childhood trauma. We see him fail to speak coherently at Wembley Stadium and the abuse to which he is subjected by his family. Against a backdrop of great affairs of state, including the death of a king and the abdication of another, an intimate and touching story of deepening friendship is played out between a plain-speaking Aussie and a very believably austere royal. Arthur Hughes shines as the genial and irreverent therapist, his performance somehow made all the more poignant by his own slight physical disability.

Aamira Challenger gives an elegantly restrained performance as the Princess Elizabeth and Jim Kitson makes the most of some excellent lines as a bluff and bustling Winston Churchill and King George V.

Rosa Hesmondhalgh (Myrtle Logue/Wallis Simpson) is endearing as an Australian shopgirl who gets invited to sit with the royals at a coronation. Christopher Naylor made the most of his role as the scheming Archbishop, Cosmo Lang and cricket sweater wearing Stephen Rahman-Hughes gives a new take on David, the Duke of Windsor who so memorably stood down from the throne as he could not uphold it without ‘the help and support of the woman I love’.

Tag Archives: David Woodward

OUTPATIENT

★★★★

Reading Rep Theatre

OUTPATIENT at Reading Rep Theatre

★★★★

“a heart-warming story with an unexpected ending”

OUTPATIENT at Reading Rep Theatre

Reviewed on 17th October 2024

by David Woodward

Photography by Harry Elletson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING OSCAR | ★★★★★ | May 2024

IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE | ★★★★★ | December 2023

SHAKESPEARE’S R&J | ★★★★ | October 2023

HEDDA GABLER | ★★★★★ | February 2023

DORIAN | ★★★★ | October 2021

OUTPATIENT

OUTPATIENT

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

THE KING’S SPEECH

★★★★

Watermill Theatre

THE KING’S SPEECH at the Watermill Theatre

★★★★

“Peter Sandys-Clarke gives an excellent performance as the ‘dear, dear man’ held in a vocal prison by his childhood trauma.”