Key Points
- Ollie Maddigan stars in and writes The Olive Boy, a solo show at Southwark Playhouse in London, portraying his own experiences as a motherless 15-year-old boy.
- The production blends crude teenage comedy with swaggering confidence, covering topics like befriending cool kids, securing alcohol, and porn site preferences.
- Beneath the humour lies a poignant exploration of grief over his mother’s death, evolving into an emotional tearjerker.
- Directed by Scott Le Crass, with lighting by Adam Jefferys, the show uses simple staging like a plastic chair and school uniform to highlight the protagonist’s vulnerability.
- Critics praise its emotional grip, clarity, and generosity, making it a universal tribute to mothers and a space for audiences to reflect on personal losses.
- The narrative follows a predictable arc from bravado to grief acceptance but excels through Maddigan’s candid performance and deft comic timing.
- Tickets are recommended with tissues due to its weepy, percussive impact on viewers.
- Performed as part of the Southwark Playhouse’s 2026 season, with reviews highlighting its open-hearted wit and specificity.
Southwark Playhouse, London (South London News) January 26, 2026 – Ollie Maddigan’s The Olive Boy has premiered to acclaim at Southwark Playhouse, delivering a solo show that masks profound grief with crude teenage comedy before revealing its tender core as a heartfelt tribute to mothers. The 15-year-old protagonist, played by Maddigan himself and drawn from his life, struts through adolescent antics—kissing girls, nabbing cider, rating porn—while glossing over his mum’s death as mere trivia. Directed by Scott Le Crass and lit by Adam Jefferys, this 60-minute piece shifts from brash laughs to sniffling catharsis, earning calls for tissues with every ticket.
The production captures the swaggering denial of youth, with Maddigan’s elastic expressions building a world of crass gags and hormonal chaos. As reported by Arifa Akbar of The Guardian,
“Maddigan plays his cocky 15-year-old-self, who is running from grief on top of dealing with the typical horrors of teenage angst.”
The show opens with survival tips for school life: how to befriend the cool guy, score strong booze for park hangs, and pick top porn sites, all delivered with bullish confidence.
What Makes The Olive Boy’s Comedy So Effective?
Maddigan’s humour lands with wicked wit, papering over emotional cracks until they burst through. Akbar notes in The Guardian,
“We start with the important information: how to befriend the cool guy at school, how to secure the strong stuff (cider) for the park, and which porn sites are top of the range.”
His uncontrollable erections and fretting over chatting up the science class hottie draw elastic-faced hilarity, pushing serious matters aside.
Scott Le Crass’s direction underscores the kid beneath the adult posturing. As per Akbar’s review,
“For all his bullish confidence and adult affectations, Scott Le Crass’s direction constantly reminds us that our arrogant protagonist is only a kid, as Maddigan slumps in a plastic chair in his school uniform and too-short tie.”
Adam Jefferys’ green strobes signal encroaching grief, nipping at Ollie’s heels amid rapid gag transitions.
The comic deftness builds gradually, undoing audiences with humour before earnest words to his mum provoke “weepy, percussive sniffs.” Akbar observes,
“Maddigan rapidly papers over the cracks with the next crude gag, his comic presentation deft and self-assured. Gradually, he undoes us with humour.”
This layering turns bravado into vulnerability, making the laughter a bridge to tears.
How Does Grief Unfold in The Olive Boy?
The protagonist zooms past his mum’s death like daily trivia, insisting everything’s fine. According to The Guardian,
“When he first tells us about his mum, he zooms through the fact of her death as if it’s just another detail in his day. Like everything’s totally fine.”
This denial fuels the early swagger, but lighting cues hint at turmoil.
As the show progresses, grief shatters the facade. Akbar describes,
“Lighting director Adam Jefferys’ green strobes are the first signs of grief nipping at Ollie’s heels.”
Maddigan’s slump in the chair, tie askew, reveals a child’s fretting amid cocky lines, with Le Crass ensuring the arrogance crumbles authentically.
The climax drops pretence for raw address to his mum, orchestrated by audience sobs. As reported by Akbar,
“And when he finally gives up all pretense of being okay, his earnest words to his mum are orchestrated by our weepy, percussive sniffs.”
This pivot from irreverence to acceptance grips emotionally, turning specificity into universality.
Who Is Ollie Maddigan and What Inspired the Show?
Ollie Maddigan, a teenage performer, channels his real-life loss into this open-hearted solo debut. The Guardian headline frames it as
“Ollie Maddigan’s open-hearted solo show about a motherless 15-year-old is full of crude comedy and swaggering confidence – until it exposes the grief underneath.”
His mum’s death propels the narrative, but he’s
The show emerges as his love letter to her—and all mums—told with unguarded love. Akbar writes, “Ollie Maddigan’s mum is dead but he’s too busy trying to kiss girls to be sad about it. This open-hearted solo show, based on Maddigan’s own life, is a love letter to his mum – to all mums, really – told with unguarded love and wicked wit.” Tickets should come with tissues, per the review.
Maddigan’s performance welcomes personal reckonings. As Akbar concludes,
“Grief can make us insular but this is an incredibly generous performance, as the specificity of Maddigan’s story welcomes in our own reckonings with death, ushering in a line of lost loved ones and inviting them all to take a seat.”
What Role Does Direction and Design Play?
Scott Le Crass directs with subtlety, contrasting cockiness with kid-like slumps. Akbar attributes,
“Scott Le Crass’s direction constantly reminds us that our arrogant protagonist is only a kid.”
The plastic chair and uniform amplify this, grounding the solo act in schoolboy reality.
Adam Jefferys’ lighting pierces the comedy with green grief flashes. Per The Guardian,
“Lighting director Adam Jefferys’ green strobes are the first signs of grief nipping at Ollie’s heels.”
These cues build tension, syncing with Maddigan’s escalating vulnerability.
Staging remains minimal, letting performance shine. The predictable shape—from swagger to sorrow—gains strength via “emotional grip and clarity of the telling,” as Akbar notes:
“The shape of the story is predictable, as Maddigan’s irreverent, swaggering confidence shatters into the acceptance of his grief. It’s sweet, neat writing. But the emotional grip and clarity of the telling is what gives this familiar tale such strength.”
Why Is The Olive Boy a Tearjerker?
It evolves from laughs to sobs via candid sorrow. Audiences fall for “his cheek, his smarm, and his candid sorrow,” per Akbar. The generosity invites shared grief, seating lost loved ones metaphorically.
Sweet writing and deft telling elevate the familiar arc. “We fall in love with his cheek, his smarm, and his candid sorrow,” Akbar reports. This makes it more than predictable—a universal hug.
Tissues are essential, as the review warns: “Tickets should come with tissues.” Percussive sniffs punctuate the earnest mum address, sealing its tearjerker status.
What Do Critics Say About Its Emotional Impact?
Arifa Akbar of The Guardian hails its shift:
“full of crude comedy and swaggering confidence – until it exposes the grief underneath and becomes a sweet, emotional tearjerker.”
The clarity grips universally.
No other media titles have reviewed as of 26 January 2026, but The Guardian’s coverage dominates early buzz. Akbar praises, “as we fall in love with his cheek, his smarm, and his candid sorrow.” This positions it as a must-see for 2026 theatre.
How Does The Olive Boy Fit Southwark Playhouse’s Season?
Southwark Playhouse hosts this intimate solo amid its bold 2026 lineup. The venue suits Maddigan’s raw delivery, per Akbar’s datelined review.
It resonates as a love letter amid fringe offerings. “A teenager’s love letter to mothers everywhere,” the headline declares. Expect strong word-of-mouth post-premiere.
