Review: OUTPATIENT, Park Theatre

A journalist writing a story about death and terminal illness finds out she herself is dying. The irony is off the charts, and it’s undeniably a fascinating set-up. Edinburgh Fringe hit Outpatient turns this premise into a witty one-person show, now running in Park Theatre’s studio space.

Writer Harriet Madeley stars as Olive, a self-centred journalist who wants to be writing real stories, not covering Love Island. When she pitches a story about death, and heads to the palliative care ward for interviews, she discovers she herself has a rare, incurable disease. This sends her on a spiral of denial and desperation, cracks open her relationship with her fiance Tess, and leads her to a dysfunctional friendship with another dying woman. 

For a show about death and dying, Outpatient is remarkably funny. Madeley’s writing is strongest when pointing out her character’s lack of self-awareness, filling the script with wry jabs at herself and nods to familiar stereotypes. In many ways, Olive is a classic solo show anti-hero: we roll our eyes at her decisions, raise eyebrows incredulously at her escapades, and empathise with her friends and family’s attempts to talk some sense into her. There are also moments, however, when the script is raw and touching: especially as it reaches its conclusion, the universality and truth behind the comedy shines through.

And truth it is: Madeley found out she had her character’s disease, Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis, while interviewing people not for an article, but for a play about death. With Olive based on herself, and the other characters on her wife, parents, and friends, the show is most interesting when dealing with reality. 

In fact, it opens and closes with recorded conversations between Madeley and her director, discussing the show’s somewhat jarring morning slot (it played before 11am at Fringe) and how similar the characters are to her real life. ‘I think she should be worse than me,’ Harriet says, ‘Like more ridiculous.’ The veil falls away when we get a glimpse into Madeley’s own life at the show’s conclusion. 

Where the move from real life to theatre doesn’t entirely work is in the form and tone of the play. Outpatient leans too heavily on the classic tropes of a Fringe solo show, with over-use of recorded voice-overs, bumpy transitions between scenes, and audience interaction that’s more awkward than intended. The story itself is great, but it feels let down by predictable storytelling and an all-too-familiar form. It’s a shame that the real life conversations are limited to the very start and end of the play – this story feels like it earns a more ambitious way of theatre-making.

Nonetheless, there is some intrigue behind Megan Lucas’ video and lighting design, and the set. Madeley stands upon a reflective floor, making lines about seeing herself below ground particularly resonant. This floor also means the lighting reflects onto the walls in a kind of rippling web, echoing the projection of internal ducts and veins projected in the background. Director Madeleine Moore also makes smart use of a treadmill as the key set piece, repurposing it throughout the show. 

Outpatient is a compelling show, telling a true story with an offbeat sense of humour. While it lacks some dramaturgical depth and ambition, it’s still a winning concept and a solid piece of Fringe theatre. 

Outpatient runs at Park Theatre (Park90) until 7 June