★★★★

“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.

BAT OUT OF HELL THE MUSICAL

Peacock Theatre

★★★★

“a non-stop blockbuster of a musical”

Jim Steinman’s epic rock and roll masterpiece returns to London as part of its UK tour.

Whispers of Meat Loaf’s original song greet the incoming audience, like hearing a ghost from the past. There are no doubts when the band starts to play in earnest, the bass vibrating through one’s very soul and the audience – many dressed in tour T-shirts – whoops in expectation.

The unassuming but excellent eight-piece band (MD Iestyn Griffiths) are rescued from the invisibility of a pit and displayed high above the stage action. The black stage (set and costume design Jon Bausor) is dominated by a large central sewer pipe leading into who-knows-where and opening out onto the relatively small playing space. A small back room serves as Raven’s bedroom, her bed curiously made from flight cases; a nod to the rock and roll origin of the production, perhaps. Scenes from this room are screened above the stage filmed live by an on-stage video cam-operator (video design Finn Ross).

Strands of Peter Pan, Romeo and Juliet, even West Side Story abound in the wafer-thin plot, though Jay Scheib’s direction shines. A rag-taggle group of boys and girls (The Lost) live in the sewer tunnels below a dystopian, post-apocalyptic Gotham-esque city controlled by a despot ruler who sends in his riot squad for summary beatings of the youth. He fears for the safety of his daughter Raven (Kate Tonkinson), who on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, declares her love for Strat (Glenn Adamson), the unofficial leader of the pack. Falco declares she shall never have him and so the scene of rebellious teenager versus parent who doesn’t understand is set.

Steinman’s songs are, of course, legendary and their narrative content ripe for stage performance and all our favourites are here. Paradise by the Dashboard Light – an anthem for failed marriage – is performed almost straight as from the LP. Falco (Rob Fowler) and Sloane (Sharon Sexton) make out in an open top Chevy (in flashback), awkwardly fumbling their clothing until Sloane commands Falco to ‘stop right there’. Including a girl in referee’s uniform going through the baseball commentary as Falco thinks he’s going to make it to last base, black and white baseball footage is screened above the action to reinforce the imagery. Including too a line-up of twitchy and giggling dancers, there’s so much going on in this scene that it’s hard to know where to focus. But Fowler and Sexton’s voices win-out; together the couple are superb.

The full youth ensemble in their grungy hip-hop attire (shades of Mad Max) give their all and their energy levels are phenomenal. But the choreography (Xena Gusthart) verges on the twee. There is little sense of rock and roll danger and hip thrusts are comedic rather than sexually threatening. For Crying Out Loud is the standout song as the ensemble share the solo lines, and pairings are made amongst the gang, some individual characterisation becoming evident. Bat Out of Hell closes the first act and as Strat’s ‘silver black phantom bike’ breaks up, confetti cannons fire pieces of the broken metal into the air and pyros shoot out tongues of flame. It’s wild, dramatic, over the top, and totally thrilling.

In the second act there’s time for some deceit and treachery, instigated for the best possible reasons, by Tink (the excellent Carla Bertran) but it’s a foregone conclusion that young love will out. I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That) is inexplicably the show’s closing number, and the only ensemble piece that feels to go on too long.

Of course, the strength of the singers is the be all for a production of this type and Glenn Adamson and especially Katie Tonkinson do not disappoint. They are both excellent throughout and well supported by the full ensemble. This is a non-stop blockbuster of a musical, sung powerfully and tunefully throughout, and danced with total commitment. An absolute blast.

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

BAT OUT OF HELL THE MUSICAL

Peacock Theatre

★★★★

“a non-stop blockbuster of a musical”

BAT OUT OF HELL THE MUSICAL

Peacock Theatre then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 22nd May 2025

by Phillip Money

Photography by Chris Davis Studio

Last ten shows reviewed at Sadler’s Wells venues:

BAT OUT OF HELL

BAT OUT OF HELL

BAT OUT OF HELL

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