★★★

“ultimately never reaches the heights that it could”

Inceldom — it’s a topic that deserves to be addressed in media more regularly. If we have any hope of dispelling the narrative that is being sold to young men — that most women hate them, only care about money and looks, use sex as a cudgel — we need to be writing about it, with nuance and empathy. Comedian Jamie Sykes’ The Last Incel makes an attempt, and has been lauded after a much-celebrated run at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, which has now seen it transferred to the Pleasance. But it can’t seem to decide whether it wants to be an absurdist comedy or a thoughtful exploration of this pertinent cultural issue.

The entirety of the play takes place in a Discord call. If you’re unfamiliar, it is rather similar to something like Slack or Microsoft Teams, with a Zoom-like function for video calls — and often used in the gaming community. We are initially introduced to “Ghost” (GoblinsGoblinsGoblins), “Crusher” (Jackson Ryan), and “Einstain” (Jimmy Kavanagh), through a series of grievances that they express about the state of their lives — all through the fault of women and “the system”, of course. Eventually they are joined by the friend that they all seem to tease most heavily, “Cuckboy” (Fiachra Corkery). He’s a bit late to the chat (they’re meant to be celebrating Einstain’s “ascension”, actually his 30th birthday, still a virgin)… and the others soon find out why. As it turns out, he’s done the impossible — he’s slept with a woman. And when the boys find out, well… all hell breaks loose. The premise is a great one, with boundless potential. Which is what makes it so frustrating when the reality falls short.

Margaret (Justine Stafford), the woman that “Cuckboy” has slept with, turns out to be a journalist. After being subjected to a certain amount of abuse from the men in the chat, she suggests writing an article about them. They agree, with the exception of “Crusher”, but this plot line never really bears any fruit. Instead, Margaret ends up suggesting that maybe they just… have sex with women. She even offers to recruit her friends — something she never actually has any intention of doing. She just wants them to imagine the possibilities. Predictably, her fib backfires spectacularly with one particular member of the group. Towards the end of the show, we are also treated to another under-explored side plot regarding the issue of male suicide — one of several missed opportunities here.

It’s all incredibly exasperating. Despite lots of clever bits throughout, The Last Incel ultimately never reaches the heights that it could. If Sykes wants it to be an absurdist comedy about incel culture, then he needs to be leaning further into that — similarly, if he wants to make a well-considered comedy-drama (how this piece was marketed), then something here needs to change. Incel culture isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. And it’s too important an issue to treat with contempt — or half-hearted platitudes.

DEAR ANNIE, I HATE YOU

Riverside Studios

★★★★

“Ipema is a wonderful storyteller. She leads us through her story with both humour and a certain poetry”

It’s a dangerous thing, walking out your front door. Especially for Sam — because there’s a ticking time bomb nestled in her brain. A clipped, but still very dangerous little aneurysm which she not-so-affectionately refers to as “Annie”.

Dear Annie, I Hate You is Sam Ipema’s autobiographical journey through young adulthood and the event that stopped her cold at just 20 years old. She weaves a lovely, warm tale about growing up with her adopted brother Micah, who lives with Down’s Syndrome. They pretend to be superheroes, they revel in imagination together, and he thinks of her as his own personal Batman — until Sam realises that other kids her age don’t think that’s cool anymore. She tells Micah to get his own friends, as she gets her own too. The classic ups and downs of adolescence ensue. There are boys, there’s gossip, and through it all, Sam is just trying to figure out who she is and what she wants. She falls in love with soccer, proudly becoming the only woman on a Division Four men’s team… then she sustains a head injury in a match, and all hell breaks loose. It’s lucky, she’s told, that she had the scans — that her aneurysm was found before it burst, potentially killing her. But how can you tell someone it’s lucky to find out that there’s a bomb in your head?

Ipema is a wonderful storyteller. She leads us through her story with both humour and a certain poetry. When she engages with the audience, you can tell they’re charmed by her. The personification of her aneurysm, “Annie”, played by Eleanor House is nothing short of sublime, especially as she introduces herself. She’s chaos incarnate, but she’s also desperately trying to get Sam to pay attention to her, almost as though she has more concern for Sam’s life than even Sam does. The performances are beautifully aided by simple, but effective set design by Hugo Dodsworth and the videography work from Douglas Coghlan and Dan Light is exceptional. The analog media on display here is a fun and interesting addition, as it beckons us (well, some of us, I’m sure) back to our own childhoods. But there’s one scene in particular that really makes it feel beyond genius — when Sam places one of the many televisions over Annie’s head and walks us through the procedure she underwent, having her aneurysm clipped. It’s definitely a bit graphic, but it’s also fascinating and viscerally real.

As we arrive at Sam’s recovery, it does feel a bit like something is missing. It’s all a touch too neat. Sam talks about the difficulties of her recovery, the excruciating pain, the loneliness of it all, and the existential dread that comes with knowing that “Annie” could still burst and potentially kill her at any moment. Yet for some reason, it doesn’t feel like it quite lands the emotional punch that it should. But maybe that’s the point of it all, really — even these massive, traumatic events are just blips in the overall scheme of things. No matter what, we’ve just got to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

THE LAST INCEL

Pleasance Theatre

★★★

“ultimately never reaches the heights that it could”

THE LAST INCEL

Pleasance Theatre

Reviewed on 16th May 2025

by Stacey Cullen

Photography by Dean Ben Ayre

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

The Last Incel

The Last Incel

The Last Incel

DEAR ANNIE, I HATE YOU

Riverside Studios

★★★★

“Ipema is a wonderful storyteller. She leads us through her story with both humour and a certain poetry”