Jake Mace
Sam Ipema is the writer-performer of Dear Annie, I Hate You, returning to Edinburgh Fringe this year after an award-winning run in 2024. The show explores Sam’s real-life experiences, using immersive soundscapes, full 90s nostalgia and what she calls “a glimpse into the liminal space of the mind”. We managed to catch up with Sam for a pixelated pint to find out just what that means, and to find out more about the show.
You can catch Dear Annie, I Hate You from the 30th July to 25th August (not the 31st-3rd or 12th) at Pleasance Courtyard – Pleasance Two from 12:00 (60mins). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Jake: Hi Sam, tell us about your show’s intriguing title Dear Annie, I Hate You, and what’s inspired you to bring the story to the stage.
Sam: Hey Jake! Great to meet you. The title Dear Annie, I Hate You gets at the heart and crux of the piece — it’s an anti-love letter to something the protagonist, Sam, experienced in her 20s that she’s nicknamed “Annie” and that she blames as the reason for her life falling apart. She’s trying to make sense of it by turning it into a show, almost to prove she survived it. Of course, by the end, it becomes more of a love letter than she ever expected — and that’s part of the irony I hope the title captures.
At its core, the show is based on my life, which is what I suppose prompted me to bring it to the stage. When I was 20, I was diagnosed with a brain aneurysm which completely derailed me and the life I had. I not-so-fondly nicknamed it “Annie”as a coping mechanism — and the piece became a way to process what happened. It plays out across two timelines: the Sam who’s performing the story now, and the version of her who lived through it.
In terms of what inspired me — this is actually the third version of the show, and every time we’ve done it, the purpose has shifted. When we premiered at Fringe last year, it felt like an uplifting story about resilience. But since then, the team and I have done a lot of digging — trying to understand what the real reason for telling this story is. And I think this version is the closest we’ve come.
Last year, I probably would’ve said the goal was to help others feel seen. But now, I think it’s more of a dare to myself — and maybe to the audience too. And the question we keep coming back to is: Why are we so desperate to prove that we survived?
Jake: Tell us about what the audience can expect coming into the show, and what they might not expect about the show.
Sam: I’d say… expect the unexpected. Most people come in thinking they know what kind of show it might be — because it’s personal, it’s based on my life, and the title sounds like a diary entry. But I’d warn those people to be a little cautious. Yes, it’s emotional. Yes, it’s intimate. I literally make my actual family play themselves onstage. But it’s not straightforward, a sob story, and it’s definitely not a tidy resolution.
What might surprise people is how much the show breaks its own rules. It jumps between timelines and tones, there’s science, there’s a game show, there are old TVs and a fair bit of spiraling. It’s not just a story about what happened — it’s about the attempt to tell it, and how messy that gets when you’re still figuring it out. So it’s not clean. But it’s alive. And hopefully if we do it right, it’ll hit you somewhere real.
Jake: What are you hoping the audience might take away from the experience, if anything?
Sam: I don’t really want to tell people what to take away — the show sort of resists that. I just want them, as always, to feel seen at moments they’ve never felt seen on a stage and I want them to question their own lives in the same way as the play questions Sams. If anything, I hope it gives people permission to stop pretending they’re fine when they’re not. Or at least makes them feel a little less alone in the mess of it all. And to have the courage to give themselves the gift of moving on.
It’s not a neat story. And that’s kind of the point. We’re always trying to wrap things up, make meaning out of pain, prove that we’ve “moved on.” But maybe survival isn’t about proving anything. Maybe it’s about acknowledging that it happened. That it was hard. And that maybe it’s just about letting it have changed you rather than define you. If the show leaves people sitting with any of that — in whatever way lands for them — then that’s enough for me.
Jake: With Edinburgh Fringe 2025 just around the corner, what are you most excited for?
Sam: Honestly, what I’m most excited about isn’t a specific show or moment—it’s Edinburgh itself. The energy of the streets, the unpredictability, the feeling that anything could happen anytime—that’s where the magic lives.
I love how the Fringe opens you up to possibilities—you wander into a 40-seat shed venue, or a repurposed shipping container, or a random bar, and suddenly you’re in the middle of something raw, surprising, maybe even a bit weird.
Fringe is like summer camp for theatre adults. It’s a bit addicting and utterly exhausting and you crawl home and cry to your mom when you’re at the end of it. But audiences are brave, curious—they show up ready to be moved, amused, unsettled. And I hope it fuels performances that feel as alive and unpredictable as the Fringe itself.
Jake: Given the themes of Binge Fringe, if your show was a beverage of any kind (alcoholic, non-alcoholic – be as creative as you like!), what would it be and why?
Sam: You know when you’re a kid at a gas station or restaurant with one of those soda machines, and you mix every flavour into one cup just to see what happens? That’s what this show feels like — except it’s the adult version, with a little something stronger in the mix.
It’s chaotic, unpredictable, a little sweet, a little bitter, and somehow it works. Most people leave not totally sure what they just watched… but knowing they kind of want another sip.
A reminder, you can catch Dear Annie, I Hate You from the 30th July to 25th August (not the 31st-3rd or 12th) at Pleasance Courtyard – Pleasance Two from 12:00 (60mins). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Image Credit: Charlie Flint
