The air turns decidedly icy when Oliver's mum Hannah (Joely Richardson) turns up, with her boyfriend Frank Donally (Jason Flemyng) in tow. She's concerned about her son, of course, but beyond this there's anger and unresolved feelings. As she hustles Oliver home, Martyn is left with Tom and a lot of pain. All of this stems from his homosexuality, something that had always been there even as he tried to purge these feelings by entering the marriage-kid-wife triangle. Such an attempt was always doomed to failure, leaving Hannah in the position of doubting her own sexuality and finding refuge with consciously macho Frank. They get on well together though, with Frank trying to be as good a father to Oliver as his dad was to him.
The problem is that Frank's father was a strict disciplinarian, always willing to dole out a thrashing if Frank stepped out of line. Thus when Oliver strays from the letter of the law (as laid out by Frank), a swift reprimand is likely to be forthcoming, if Hannah isn't around. Even worse, Frank seems to derive a perverse form of pleasure from inflicting pain. All little Oliver can do is keep quiet and lie, hoping desperately that Hannah will stay happy. The signs of his abuse are obvious in hindsight, but that's of scant use when Frank crushes Oliver's hand within his own. Pretending that he shut his hand in a car door, this nasty injury provides the vital clue for Martyn. After a few X-rays and some conferring with a medical colleague, Doctor Razmu (Shaheen Khan), the conclusion is obvious and frustrating beyond belief.
Hollow Reed is notable for dealing with a number of highly emotive subjects with care and compassion. The subject of child abuse cannot fail to be disturbing, purely through the disgust that adults who prey on children evoke. However, in a film treatment the entire edifice rests upon the central child actor and whether they can evoke the very real terror that their role demands. Fortunately Sam Bould does a fine job, showing how someone like Oliver might lie not because they're afraid of further punishment but because it'll spare further pain for their parents. Bould effectively subsumes the pain within himself, avoiding a beating whenever possible but always presenting a happy face. It's a tragic situation and the rest of the cast do a reasonable job of filling out their characters (even though very little background information is provided).
However, the director Angela Pope is trying to cover far too many topics at once. Not content with a simple story of abuse, the hydra of homophobia makes an appearance whilst the eternal middle/lower class conflict theme is a constant throughout Hollow Reed. By making Frank a stereotype, a working class bully, when everyone else is middle class, the central theme is obscured. Instead of a lean tale which illustrates just how easy is it for a mother to miss signs of mistreatment in her own home, Pope over-plays her hand.
Nevertheless, Hollow Reed can hardly fail to be heart-rending and frequently it is. The natural frustration which arises with the lengthy procedures of justice chugs along nicely, even if events turn out a bit conveniently. Thus Hollow Reed ends up treading the familiar line between failure and success.