A multimedia dark comedy about a brain aneurysm may not feel like an entertaining night out, but Dear Annie, I Hate You is a unique exploration of a very personal situation.
Sam Ipema writes and stars in a play that seeks to educate and amuse. Its bank of CRT TVs and cables offers insight from Sam’s family and friends, while video projection captures live moments within the narrative.
Annie is the name and persona she gives to the brain aneurysm once diagnosed. She’s played by Eleanor House, a lively and boisterous Scottish woman who sings, questions, and even gets the audience to participate in games.
There’s a lot going on, including Sam’s brother, who has Down’s Syndrome and sees her as an invicible superhero. There’s a couple of boyfriends, a nervous friend, and her parents who offer nuggets of advice.
Everything that can be utilised to suggest a brain in crisis is thrown into James Meteyard’s clever production. TV pictures fizz and flicker, scenes abruptly change focus, and in one powerful scene, a shadow play freezes into a projected image.
This is Ipema’s reality, and it is often hard to watch, particularly when it comes to showing a (brief) video of real brain surgery. The inclusion of this and the moments discussing how the brain’s neurons power our every movement, thought, and belief leaves you thinking about the mysteries of humanity.
Dear Annie, I Hate You is full of uplifting moments and jokes, but doesn’t forget that this is the story of a devastating, possibly terminal, diagnosis on a young woman who likes soccer, having a laugh, and heading into party mode.
There are interesting scenes about adapting to your friend circle at school, then finding they aren’t quite on board with a you who needs to relearn ‘how to be’ over a long recuperation.
The play never descends into mawkish self-pity but instead lets its audience see behind the medical jargon and detached professionalism into the reality of facing death at an early age.
Both Ipema and House (with her wrist in a cast after falling in a previous performance) are strong personalities who work well together, whether talking seriously or embracing the bizarre reality of a malfunctioning organ.
Dear Annie, I Hate You embraces the difference of fringe theatre and explores the limits of what it can do if you relax enough to let it.
You can see Dear Annie, I Hate You at Riverside Studios until 1 Jun: tickets here. It’s produced by Wild Geese Productions.
4 stars.
London production image credit: Charlie Flint