JADAR

★★★★☆

Death isn’t something that we talk about on a regular basis. It’s not like the weather, or what’s on TV, topics that creep into everyday conversation. And it’s certainly not something we LIKE to talk about. This is the focus of Outpatient. The play begins with Olive telling us that “It’s weird we don’t talk about it.” Some of us are lucky enough to not have experienced a death in our lives. I’m unfortunate to have lost family members and know all too well the feelings of grief that comes with this experience. Outpatient is a perfect reflection of the emotional turmoil that comes when you’re told you only have a limited time left to live.

An autobiographical play that explores our discomfort with death, inspired by writer Harriet Madeley’s own experience with a life-changing diagnosis, Outpatient premiered at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2024, where it won Summerhall’s Lustrum Award for Unforgottable Theatre. The play was accompanied by workshops on playwriting from lived experiences, funded by the Arts Council England. Since then, the one-woman show has had runs of performances at Reading Rep Theatre and The Lowry, before coming to Park Theatre in Finsbury Park. This 2025 run will similarly coincide with playwriting workshops in prisons, schools and youth groups, with a documentary on BBC Radio 4’s Illuminated Strand exploring the true story behind the play.

The one-woman show follows Olive, a journalist who wants to make her name through a written piece interviewing dying people and their take on death. In fact, she’ll go to any lengths to get these interviews, including giving her business card to all of the patients in the palliative care ward. What she doesn’t expect is to become one of the very people she is wanting to interview: Olive is diagnosed with Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis — a rare and potentially terminal condition. 

Harriet Madeley gives an astonishing performance as Olive, with her comedic timing nothing short of phenomenal. She is sharp-witted, with a relentless energy that doesn’t dim once throughout the 80-minute run. For someone who has wrote the play she is performing, it’s an impressive feat that she doesn’t laugh alongside the audience. Olive very much reminded me of a mish-mash of Bridget Jones, desperately trying to get her life together and make some kind of impact, and Friend’s Chandler: someone who uses comedy as a defence mechanism, expertly using eye contact with the audience as we become her confidante when she can’t find the support she wants in her family and friends. The eyerolls at her doctor? Hilarious.

It is incredibly difficult to keep an audience’s attention when performing in a one-woman show. Outpatient’s sound designer Bella Kear takes this challenge on board and means to impress. The use of voiceovers for the other characters in Olive’s life: her fiancée Tess, her mother, her doctor gives a nice change of pace to each scene where we would only have Madeley’s voice. Equally, the use of songs as irony, in particular the karaoke scene where Olive sings ‘I Will Survive’, is genius: I roared with laughter. 

With a very intimate stage, the set is incredibly minimalist. There is a treadmill that Olive hops on and off throughout, a very on-the-face metaphor for her running away from death, an exercise ball, and a Tesco bag. The play relies on the lighting, and credit must be given to Egan Lucas, the lighting and projection designer. Lucas does a great job of using bright lights and colours to reflect the very quickly changing emotions of Olive. The projected screen, however, seemed rather purposeless. I didn’t quite understand the biological shapes that popped in and out as a Siri-esque voice described Olive’s diagnosis. 

While the focus of the play is very much on Olive’s one-liners, one of the stand-out moments was in relation to Tess, Olive’s fiancée. She is described at her desk, surrounded by binders, googling Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis and instantly jumps to the worst-case scenarios. We have all been there. DON’T. EVER. GOOGLE. IT. It’s relatable and that’s what makes it so funny.

However, I would say that Outpatient almost relies too much on comedy in parts. There are hard-hitting moments that don’t seem to land with the weight they deserve as they’re quickly passed over to make room for the next joke. Some moments which would have added more emotional weight to the play are rushed or underdeveloped, feeling more like add-ons, rather than giving them the significance they deserve. 

Without spoiling too much about the ending, when Madeley leaves the stage the room goes quiet as images start to project on the screen, I looked around the room and the reaction was amazing: there were smiles on people’s faces, there were tears and the sound of sniffles. While the play does make you wait for it – the ending is something profoundly special.

Outpatient is a play that encourages reflection – it forces us to think about what we would do with what limited time left we may have to live. We all would say that we wouldn’t react the way Olive does, but what is the correct way to respond to such life-changing news? That’s what Outpatient forces us to consider. While it is very much a play about death, it’s also about living and making the most of your life. You’ll always find support in the love from your family and friends – that’s what Outpatient has taught me.

Outpatient runs at Park Theatre until June 7.

Photo: Abi Mowbray