“Next time – bring biscuits.”
I first read about this show while waiting in the foyer of a different theatre to see a Cher tribute. The less said about *that* evening’s entertainment, the better. But it did lead me to tonight’s performance at the Norman Bragg Studio within Aylesbury’s lovely Waterside Theatre. So for that, at least, I am grateful.
The leaflet for The Olive Boy had me at “crude” and “compelling”, and if we’re all honest, what isn’t there to love about a coming-of-age comedy? So honestly, there was a fair bit of pressure on writer and actor Ollie Maddigan well before I set foot in the auditorium, especially with the numerous 5-star plaudits and a sell-out month at the Edinburgh Fringe touting his ingenuity.
Fortunately for all involved (but mainly the audience), Maddigan delivers with aplomb; those plaudits are well-earned. Based upon his own story of the death of his mother at an age that is tough enough to navigate without that additional layer of tragedy, Maddigan swallows the stage and audience attention with his erratic energy and absolute pinpoint precision of character.
Yes, it may be *his* story, but I found myself mesmerised by his ability to morph into a teenager. Not just himself as a teenager – but the epitome of all teenagers. A masterclass in characterisation, the show doles out painful memories of life at school: the cliques and the name-calling, the total cruelty and confusion and outright ridiculousness of adolescence.
Directed and produced by Mitch Donaldson, The Olive Boy may be a one-man show with a chair as the only staging, and some infrequent yet hugely effective sound and lighting changes (nod to Adam Jeffries) throughout, but Maddigan manages to fill the stage with life. Switching between roles with seamless ease, his brash, vulgar 15-year-old becomes Cool Kid Jake (hilariously accurate), Science Girl, Geek Girl, his own father, and his mother’s partner “Pushover Peter”, while hardly pausing for breath. And each shift is tonally flawless.
What starts out as awkwardly loud and wickedly crude (and although it continues in that vein), ultimately discusses one son’s grief and all that is tied up with dealing with that angst, on top of being a teenager: sex and drugs and a big bowl of salty, bitter olives.
While this run of the tour is coming to an end, there are still a few dates left in London, Brighton, Plymouth, and Frome so please – go. Take a day trip to the beach, or the city. Or Frome. But I would urge anyone to go and witness this tour-de-force for themselves.