Issy Cory
After a particularly violent soccer accident, a scan of Sam’s brain shows an aneurysm. As Sam and her family are thrown into the chaos of this new reality, an unexpected visitor jumps onto the scene. Cue: Annie.
Annie is Sam’s brain aneurysm. Flamboyant and excitable, Annie is thrilled to be the talk of the town. But when Sam is faced with the decision to get Annie clipped in a life-threatening brain surgery, or to stick with her forever waiting for her to burst, their fatal relationship is put to the test.
The staging is inventive, techno-fuelled and loaded with neurological symbolism. Flexible neon tube lights plug and unplug into retro TVs that balance atop white columns. They are intelligently programmed to change as Sam’s brain does, starting off bright and stable, then flickering and flashing as she re-learns the use of her bodily functions.
Sam, played by Sam Ipema, is an endearing and witty storyteller. Alongside Annie, their relationship plays out in fascinating ways, moving from hatred to acceptance. The concept of humanising Sam’s brain aneurysm feels fresh and insightful, allowing us to fully understand the complications of living with such a visceral health threat.
Each TV displays a multitude of documentary-style clips that intermingle with the onstage story. We meet Sam’s family, including her adorable brother Micah, and her doctor, who tenderly takes us through the risks of her brain surgery. It is a genius move to place one of the TVs on Annie’s head, as it plays out real-life clips of Sam’s brain surgery.
With such strong production elements throughout, the end of Sam’s story lacks pace somewhat. After finding out her aneurysm still poses a danger even after her surgery, Annie returns and is met with yet another rejection from Sam. Eventually, we arrive at a point of acceptance, but only after this slightly predictable plot point has re-emerged.
Despite this, Dear Annie, I Hate You, is one of the most joyful retellings of life with a brain aneurysm the Edinburgh Fringe has ever seen. It is informative, yet warm, scary, yet fun. This is how autobiographical stories should be told.
Recommended Drink: Kombucha (it’s probably good for the brain).
You can catch Dear Annie, I Hate You at ZOO Playground – Playground 2 from Aug 16-25 at 16:50. Tickets are available through the EdFringe Box Office.
Jake Mace
