Dear Annie, I Hate You is a messy, playful, deeply emotional piece of theatre from Samantha Ipema – and it’s like nothing else you’ll see this year. A show that starts with party cups and ping-pong balls doesn’t seem like it’ll punch you in the gut… but oh, it does. When you thought the most emotional part would be being judged for preferring make-believe over beach days and shopping, you weren’t ready for what came next.
There’s a fair amount of tickle and slapstick involved. Comic relief is provided by Annie, played by Eleanor House, through song, dance, and Lycra. She’s an annoyingly hyper, energetically upbeat character who gives the audience more than a few cheeky winks.
As you enter, you’re handed a red cup and some ping-pong balls. Later, you’re asked to throw them at the stage. Being somewhat of a fidgeter, I found myself playing with the balls throughout. While I do enjoy a bit of audience participation, this didn’t quite land. UV light and reactive balls might have looked better, or perhaps it could have been more satisfying to aim them through a hoop, in this case, an inflatable pool ring.
At first glance, the production might appear a bit gimmicky; retro TVs, neon light strips, live-feed cameras. The piece soon progresses – these choices are clearly well thought out. They support pre-recorded performances and strengthen the layered narrative. I especially enjoyed the interactions with the father character, which were handled with both wit and tenderness.
The star of the show, and its writer, is Samantha Ipema. She does a fantastic job of holding our attention while navigating a full spectrum of emotions. I particularly enjoyed the small, almost throwaway interactions with the pre-recorded displays on the TVs around the set.
A note to front-row attendees: if a performer talks to you, do try to respond a little. It’s all conversational, nothing humiliating or deeply exposing. Even late arrivals are greeted with a few good-natured ad libs.
While most reviews will no doubt focus on the emotional depth of this show – and it is deeply emotional – to me, it felt more like a coming-of-age story. The difficulty of trying to live a normal life with friends and family while a very real, very potential tragedy looms overhead is explored with sensitivity and impact. From siblings dressing as Batman to finding your thing (football in this case) and then suddenly being faced with something so monumental, it’s all handled with remarkable care.
One scene features real-life footage of a brain operation. You’re given plenty of time and warning to step out if you wish, with an invitation to return once the scene is over. No one left during the performance I attended, though I did notice many hands shielding squeamish faces.
This is the moment where the emotions ramp up considerably. Not only do we see the protagonist’s struggle, but we feel it too. Knowing it’s all based on Samantha Ipema’s own life experiences makes it even more powerful. You can feel the exhaustion and pain behind her brave face, and when she reveals that putting on a brave face left her so drained she was knocked out for a week afterwards, it’s truly gut-wrenching.
The sound design is another standout. It’s not just a playlist of club hits (though some bangers do feature); it’s how the sound is used. Dan Balfour, the sound designer, ensures that everything from a football being kicked to voices in the crowd has directional clarity. It turns moments into experiences, lifting them beyond mere sound effects.
This is a vibrant and emotionally charged, almost one woman show that skilfully balances humour, heartbreak, and raw honesty. Despite one cast member having her arm in a cast, and reports of another performing with a broken toe, the energy never faltered, they performed without missing a beat. With inventive staging, a standout central performance, and sound design that lifts every moment, Dear Annie, I Hate You is a brave, beautiful gut-punch of a show that will stay with you long after the ping-pong balls are swept away.
Booking now, until 1st June. Tickets at riversidestudios.co.uk
Words by Valentine Gale-Sides
Photography Charlie Flint
