★★★★

“achieves something incredibly rare by being so frank about something so taboo”

“It’s weird that we don’t talk about it,” Olive tells us. She is referring to death and society’s taboo towards it. Olive is writing an article about this very subject and is looking for volunteers who are terminally ill to speak about their experiences. Without reservation, she does not consider this unusual and starts handing out her business card to patients gathered in a palliative care ward. However, this ambition takes a completely different spotlight when she, herself, is diagnosed with the rare illness primary sclerosing cholangitis (PSC). What unfolds is that Olive cannot deal with the prospect of her own death at all, as she embarks on a self-destructive path, which could ruin her life before its potential premature end.

Outpatient is an astonishing one-hander conceived, written, and performed by Harriet Madeley (Olive Johnson in the play), centred on her own experience of being diagnosed with a potentially life-limiting condition. It is a remarkable performance, which provides so much deep insight into such a serious, brutal subject matter, whilst being uplifting and funny. Irony is regularly deployed throughout the piece, a particularly good example of which is Olive, her fiancé and mother going to the cinema to watch a Norwegian film about suicide, just after receiving the news. It is not morbid and solemn about the inevitability of what awaits but rather insists that we enjoy the time before then.

Whilst only having a single performer, the play features numerous characters via pre-recorded material. These stretch to Olive’s parents, her fiancé, wider family, and doctors that she meets, and provide necessary grounding to her situation within her inner circle. This element of the play works well for the most part but is, at times, over-used because we want to hear more of Olive’s internal dialogue.

We learn of the different reactions to the news from different people. There are those that try too hard to be nice but end up overbearing. There are those that think that they can fix things themselves and then there are those that just pity. Clearly, nobody knows exactly the right way to respond. Of most interest, is Olive’s own response. While everyone else is trying to confront the problem, Olive is trying to run from it, in the hope that she can run faster than it. It is quite befitting that so much of the story is narrated by Olive whilst running on a treadmill. The direction (Madelaine Moore) is pin-point, and it needs to be, given the minimalism of the set design, which helps to project the performance rather than hold it back. The lighting (Megan Lucas) is also a prominent feature of the show, the projection of an x-ray reminding us of the authentic meaning of the show despite the comedic light relief.

Through telling this story (an adaptation of Harriet’s own story), Harriet appears to want to tell us two things. Firstly, that even in light of terrible news, one’s actions can have a damaging impact on those closest to them. Moreover, though, is that even if one thinks they have nothing to lose, this is never truly the case, that there is always something worth protecting and working towards. Outpatient achieves something incredibly rare by being so frank about something so taboo, whilst somehow raising your spirits.

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood”

Anna Morris’s darkly comic one-woman play Son of a Bitch arrives at Southwark Playhouse following a successful run at the 2024 Edinburgh Festival Fringe. With a provocative title and an intriguing premise, the show delves into themes of motherhood, societal pressure, and personal regret, balancing sharp humour with moments of introspection.

The play follows Marnie (played by Morris), a yoga instructor in her late 30s, whose life is upended when a fellow passenger records her calling her young son the C-word during a flight. The video goes viral, but rather than focusing on the fallout of this moment, the narrative primarily explores the lead-up to this event, questioning the unspoken realities of motherhood.

Morris delivers an energetic and engaging performance, effortlessly slipping into the various characters that populate Marnie’s world. From her overbearing northern mother to her intensely posh flatmate, Morris’s character work is sharply observed and often very funny. The writing brims with witty one-liners, earning consistent laughs; a line about men who look like prawns and another about depressed women in bathtubs get particularly loud chuckles. There’s a definite influence of stand-up comedy in Morris’s delivery, adding a lively rhythm to the script.

Under Madelaine Moore’s direction, the production is tightly paced and effectively staged, ensuring that the transitions between past and present feel fluid and dynamic. Visually, the production is cleverly designed. The set consists of corporate blue carpeted flooring, a white chair at its centre, and two curved “C” shape structures forming a circular shape behind it; an effective nod both to the claustrophobic setting of an aeroplane and a visual play on the word Marnie uses against her child. Lighting Design by Megan Lucas subtly shifts to reflect different moods: cold and corporate one moment, then warm and golden as Marnie parodies the ‘glow’ of motherhood. Another standout element is the use of captioning, also designed by Lucas. Displayed in a rectangular screen above the stage, the captions adapt in font and style to represent different speakers and even simulate text messages, demonstrating a well-thought-out integration of accessibility and storytelling.

The narrative structure of Son of a Bitch mirrors the spiralling nature of Marnie’s situation, moving fluidly between past and present. While this approach effectively builds intrigue, it could sometimes do with further clarity, with a multitude of names and details occasionally jumping around too loosely. Additionally, while Marnie’s husband is positioned as an unsympathetic figure – choosing to upgrade himself to business class rather than sit with his wife and child – his character feels somewhat two-dimensional, leaving questions about why these two people were together in the first place.

Beneath the humour, the play raises compelling questions about societal expectations of motherhood. A particularly striking moment comes when Marnie is asked whether she would regret not having children, only for her to subvert the question and ask what would happen instead if she regrets having one. There’s also an underexplored but poignant subplot involving a gay friend who reveals that his lack of children wasn’t a choice, but something he had to grieve. These moments hint at deeper, thought-provoking themes, though at times they feel fleeting.

While the play is consistently engaging, its pacing remains largely unchanged throughout. Moments that could have built towards greater emotional intensity or a stronger sense of escalation maintain the same rhythm, which at times lessens the dramatic impact. However, Morris’s charisma ensures the piece remains compelling. She establishes an immediate rapport with the audience, and her command of comedy ensures that the story is as entertaining as it is thought-provoking.

Overall, this is a sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood. While its central premise is striking, the surrounding narrative could delve deeper into its themes. Nonetheless, Morris’s performance is magnetic, making this an enjoyable and insightful performance.

OUTPATIENT

Park Theatre

★★★★

“achieves something incredibly rare by being so frank about something so taboo”

OUTPATIENT

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 22nd May 2025

by Luke Goscomb

Photography by Abi Mowbray

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

OUTPATIENT

OUTPATIENT

OUTPATIENT

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood”

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 18th February 2025

by Joseph Dunitz

Photography by Steve Gregson

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

SON OF A BITCH

SON OF A BITCH

SON OF A BITCH

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