The Olive Boy Review: A Teenager's Love Letter to Mothers Everywhere
Southwark Playhouse, London – Ollie Maddigan's deeply personal solo show, The Olive Boy, delivers an emotional punch that audiences should be prepared for, with tickets practically demanding a pack of tissues. This open-hearted production, running until 31 January, transforms teenage bravado into a raw, moving tribute to maternal love and loss.
A Cocky Teenager Running from Grief
Maddigan portrays his 15-year-old self with elastic expressions and swaggering confidence, creating a world obsessed with school hierarchies, securing cider for park gatherings, and navigating top-tier porn sites. The character's crude jokes and uncontrollable erections serve as a frantic distraction from the elephant in the room: his mother's death. When he first mentions her passing, he glosses over it as if it were just another mundane detail of his day, insisting everything is totally fine.
Direction and Design That Reveal the Child Within
Under Scott Le Crass's insightful direction, the production constantly reminds us that beneath the adult affectations lies a vulnerable child. Maddigan slumps in a plastic school chair, his uniform tie too short, fretting over how to approach the attractive girl in his science class. Adam Jefferys' lighting design introduces green strobes that subtly signal grief beginning to nip at Ollie's heels, even as he rapidly papers over the cracks with another crude gag.
From Humour to Heartbreak
The show's genius lies in how it gradually undoes the audience with humour before delivering an emotional knockout. Maddigan's comic presentation remains deft and self-assured until he finally surrenders all pretense of being okay. His earnest words to his mother are then orchestrated by the weepy, percussive sniffs of the audience, creating a shared moment of catharsis.
Familiar Structure, Unforgettable Execution
While the story's shape – from irreverent confidence to shattered grief – follows a predictable arc, the emotional grip and clarity of the telling elevate this familiar tale. Maddigan's writing is sweet and neat, but it's the performance's generosity that truly resonates. The specificity of his personal story welcomes audiences to bring their own reckonings with death, ushering in a line of lost loved ones and inviting them all to take a seat.
You'll fall in love with his cheek, his smarm, and his candid sorrow in this incredibly generous performance that proves grief, while often insular, can also create profound connection when shared with such unguarded honesty.
