Chris Addison’s Ollie Reeder: So awful, so brilliant, so The Thick of It

There is something so delightfully irritating about Chris Addison’s portrayal of Ollie Reeder in The Thick of It that you almost want to give him a round of applause and a slap in the face at the same time. Equal parts brilliant and unbearable, Ollie is one of comedy’s most effective portraits of unearned confidence and male smugness. Addison embodies Ollie so well – slightly crumpled suit and all – that occasionally I have to remind myself he’s not real.

From the very first episode, Addison captures the essence of a political advisor who knows just enough to be dangerous. He doesn’t play Ollie like a cartoon villain, though the material would allow for that. Instead, there is nuance behind the arrogance. He is clever, but not that clever. Ambitious, but lazily so. Loyal to absolutely no one, except perhaps himself – and only even when it suits him. Addison never oversells it. Ollie’s calculated, sometimes cruel, actions  always come with just enough personal logic to make them feel justified, at least to him. Addison doesn’t wink at the audience or try to make Ollie secretly loveable. He plays him straight: a self-serving, semi-narcissistic young man who thinks he’s smarter than he is. We never expect Ollie to be likeable – and that’s what makes him weirdly endearing. He’s disgustingly fake – but at least he’s consistent.

It’s the comedic commitment that makes Addison’s performance so quietly masterful

It’s the comedic commitment that makes Addison’s performance so quietly masterful. He’s genuinely funny – dry, quick, constantly calculating – but he never lets us forget that Ollie is, at his core, a prat. It can be argued that Ollie shares these qualities with some of today’s politicians, further making his character seem that bit more real. Ollie manipulates, lies, passes the blame, and throws colleagues under the bus without flinching. Addison delivers every smug aside and desperate backpedal with such deadpan accuracy that it becomes difficult to imagine the actor behind the role being anything other than this infuriating, slightly ethereal-looking career climber. A testament to Addison’s incredible skills.

There is something eerily familiar about Ollie. Everyone has encountered someone who talks in press-release language, as if their word is gospel, claims their 2:2 essay grade is simply because they didn’t try or the teaching was just below them, and thinks this gives them supreme academic authority – you’ll get the familiarity. He’s the guy who takes credit for other people’s work, name-drops obscure political theorists, who, in actuality, he knows nothing about beyond a Chat GPT summary, yet he still ends up being able to command the room. And it’s odious. But you might still kind of fancy him, even if you really do not want to. You know his type. But there’s something about the toxic combination of sharp wit and overwhelming self-confidence that unknowingly reels you in – against all better judgement.

Ollie is unapologetically awful, but captivating

What sets Addison’s performance apart is the way he subtly evolves the character over time – not by softening him but by hardening his ambition. Ollie’s character doesn’t really change; he becomes bolder in his lack of morality and loyalty. Early on, you can see flickers of discomfort when he’s asked to throw his boss or colleague under the bus. But by the final season – when he slips into Malcolm Tucker’s chair – he is proud and less hesitant in his communication. His loyalty is to his own power – and expanding it.

Addison’s brilliance lies in his restraint. Lesser actors might try to make Ollie likeable by showing glimmers of humanity, or go for big showy moments. Addison does the opposite; he plays the long game. He lets Ollie be unpleasant and never apologises for it. Which, ironically, makes the performance all the more enjoyable. Ollie is unapologetically awful, but captivating – so, somehow, we are still rooting for him.

Chris Addison doesn’t just play Ollie Reeder – he becomes him. Every eyeroll, smug smirk, and spineless betrayal is delivered with such commitment, it’s hard to believe there isn’t a real-life Ollie lurking somewhere in Westminster. You’d never want to be stuck in a seminar or group project with him – but watching him squirm, climb, and sabotage his way through politics? Utterly irresistible and endlessly entertaining.

Addison nails it: the perfectly awful character we love to hate.

The Thick of It is available to watch on BBC iPlayer and Amazon Prime.