Sorry I Broke Your Arms

James Akka

James Akka is a writer and performer whose sharp wit and keen eye for

human quirks bring his characters vividly to life. In Sorry (I Broke Your Arms

and Legs), he takes audiences on a hilarious and heartfelt journey through

the mind of Sam, a twelve-year-old boy navigating perfectionism, insecurity,

and the messy business of growing up.

💛 Date: Wednesday 22nd April – Saturday 9th May 2026

💛 Location: The Pleasance Theatre, Carpenters Mews, North Road, London, N7

9EF

💛 Time: 7:30 pm

💛 Tickets: https://www.pleasance.co.uk/event/sorry-i-broke-

your-arms-and-legs

Painfully funny - ★★★★ The Stage

Exudes originality - ★★★★★ The Recs

Interviewer: Nicole Kent

What was the germination of the idea for the show?

It actually started as a writing exercise at Central. We had a module where we had to present a seven-minute piece. The most helpful thing our teacher made us do was to plan the entire hour-long show first.

He said, “You’re showing me seven minutes, but I’m going to ask you what the other fifty-

three minutes are.” So, we had to plot the whole hour and then choose the seven minutes we wanted to write. The first seven minutes I wrote are actually still pretty much unchanged in the final show. Because I had already plotted the rest of the story, it made writing the full

piece much easier.

How did the character first come to life?

I did a free-writing exercise where you write continuously without stopping, even if you

don’t know what to write. And out of that came the voice of this twelve-year-old boy. He was

funny, weird, and slightly annoying, and I immediately felt like I wanted to explore him

more. That character eventually became Sam, the central character of the show.

What’s the story at the heart of the show?

The show follows Sam, a twelve-year-old boy who is obsessed with academic success and

validation. I’ve taken elements of my own personality when I was twelve — being a massive

teacher’s pet, obsessed with awards and doing well at school — and turned them up to

eleven. At school we had a system where you got certificates for achievements, and I was the first kid in my year to get the gold certificate for fifty awards. I was completely obsessed with it. Looking back, I realise I was probably quite annoying. I would correct teachers and had a slightly inflated sense of my own academic abilities. But underneath that there was also a deeper insecurity. I was gay and didn’t really know how to deal with that at the time, so there was a sense of needing to prove myself through achievements.

Is the show autobiographical?

Not exactly. Sam isn’t me, and I didn’t do anything as extreme as what happens in the play.

But emotionally it draws on things I felt at that age — perfectionism, insecurity, and trying to

measure your worth through achievements.

Have audiences connected with those themes?

Yes, very much. I’ve had lots of people come up to me after the show, especially queer

audience members, saying they recognise that feeling of overcompensating — trying to be

perfect academically because you’re hiding something about yourself.mBut it’s not only

queer audiences. Plenty of people who aren’t queer have said they recognise that feeling of

perfectionism or trying to prove themselves through school success.

Do you think attitudes toward being gay have changed since you were at school?

Definitely. There’s been a huge shift. My old school now even has an LGBT student club,

which wouldn’t have existed when I was there. But it’s interesting because even when

attitudes were changing, I still didn’t come out until I was eighteen. I would tell myself that it

was completely fine to be gay, but I still kept it hidden. That tension is something the show

explores — the difference between knowing something is socially accepted and still feeling

unsure about it yourself.

What influences shaped the show?

Obviously solo shows like Fleabag are part of the tradition now, but I didn’t want to write a

typical coming-out monologue. Comedy was actually my main influence. I was always

asking myself how to make each moment as funny as possible. Shows like Futurama and The Simpsons were big influences. They take characters seriously but take logic very lightly,

which I love. The characters are consistent, but the world can bend to serve the comedy.

How was the experience of performing at the Edinburgh Fringe?

It was amazing. It was my fourth Fringe overall but my third with our theatre company. We

ended up selling out seventeen shows in a row after getting a strong review early in the run. It was a small venue with forty-two seats, but it still felt magical.

What do you hope audiences take away from the show?

I hope people laugh a lot, first of all. But I also hope they connect with the deeper themes

about self-worth and the pressure to prove yourself. It’s been really moving to hear people

say they see themselves in the story.