Writer: Samson Hawkins
Director: Jesse Jones
Top Gs Like Me arrives at the Royal and Derngate at a very appropriate time. The play tackles one of the most discussed cultural anxieties of the moment: how people – and in particular young people – absorb identity from an internet that is constant and increasingly ideological.
The plot follows Aidan and his friendship group as they navigate the language, attitudes and hierarchies of online masculinity culture. Influencer figures loom large, shaping how the young people speak, joke and measure themselves against one another. In some ways, this piece builds on Samson Hawkins’ earlier work, Village Idiot, with the question of identity again coming to the fore. What do people do in order to – in their minds at least – fit in? Where Village Idiot has identity formed through interactions in a small physical community, here the world has expanded, and identity is now formed in public, in a digital world with no borders, and under algorithmic pressure. This message is clear from the outset and runs throughout the play.
Aidan (Daniel Rainford) is a stereotypical lost teenager – school results aren’t great, he’s spending the summer working two jobs while his mother lies on the couch at home. The nearest thing Aidan’s got to a male role model is Dave (David Schaal), and he’s an alcoholic with a criminal record, currently living in a tent by the skate park – not exactly something to aspire to. His closest friend is a girl called Mia (Fanta Barrie), so he looks for a role model online – in the form of influencer Hugo Bang (Danny Hatchard), whose ideas of masculinity and success are not what most people would subscribe to.
The theme is timely and vital, and the characters represent different aspects of the culture. Aidan is finding what he feels is appropriate guidance online for want of anything more real, where Dave creates a regular link to reality. Mia provides a challenge and counterpoint to Aidan’s world, spending the summer with her well-to-do boyfriend Charlie (Finn Samuels), where Grace (Emily Coates) tries to fit in with the character Aidan is creating for himself. Then there’s the online world, a regular presence created by a group of students from the University of Northampton. As the play progresses, the lines between what Aidan is watching and what he is feeling become increasingly blurred, as the indoctrination takes hold.
The result is a thoughtful, well-conceived production, but it’s one that ultimately feels more cautious than its subject demands. Moments that appear to be building toward sharper confrontation or consequence instead lead to only a small escalation in rhetoric. The production has much to recognise: the rhythms of short-form video, the constant background noise of commentary, the subtle creep of ideological talking points. What it lacks is the sense of risk that would push these recognisable elements into something more unsettling or transformative. Even when there’s a moment towards the end where the consequences for Aidan’s choices could hit him hard, the writing feels too tame, relying instead on a brief heart-to-heart with Dave to change Aidan’s ways.
The cast work hard to animate the material, bringing energy and credibility to dialogue that captures teenage speech with accuracy and humour. There are flashes of vulnerability that hint at deeper emotional lives beneath the bravado, but too much of the characterisation as written is two-dimensional.
The skate-park set provides a strong metaphor: a public arena where identity is displayed and judged. There’s a sense of constant visibility, reinforcing the idea that there is no private space untouched by the online gaze. The ensemble’s presence as a living internet is often striking, especially in sequences that capture the speed and fragmentation of scrolling culture. Sound (Benjamin Grant) and lighting (Rory Beaton) further support this environment, producing bursts of attention that mirror viral moments. These design choices frequently deliver the impact that the script itself holds back.
The play’s central themes — the pervasiveness of the internet, short-attention-span media and the subtle pathways of indoctrination — are undeniably timely. The production recognises their importance and treats them with empathy, resisting easy moralising — but this restraint becomes a limitation. By repeatedly stepping back from sharper dramatic stakes, the play risks tiptoeing around the very forces it sets out to interrogate. What remains is a piece that is intelligent, relevant and thoughtfully staged, yet less hard-hitting than it could be. Top G’s Like Me raises the right questions and creates a vivid theatrical world in which to ask them, but its characterisation and dramatic choices soften the impact.
Runs until 7 March 2026
The Reviews Hub Star Rating
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6

