The Virgins | Soho Theatre

Six teenagers, four of them virgins, two of them not, have one hell of a messy night in this bold teenage girl coming-of-age comedy. 

Penned by Miriam Battye, the piece centres around the socially awkward trio Jess (Ella Bruccoleri), Chloe (Anushka Chakravarti) and Phoebe (Molly Hewitt-Richards) getting ready for a night out full of aspirations of getting drunk, dancing, and maybe losing their virginity. But are they ready? It is this self-discovery that routes a pathway to anxiety, especially complicated by the presence of two boys, the broody Mel (Alec Broaden) and Chloe’s equally awkward brother Joel (Ragevan Vasan), and the guest of honour, popular girl Anya (Zoë Armer). 

Initially, it is a typical teen comedy full of sex-based gags, awkward poses and cheap alcohol. The trio complements each other well in this respect, with Bruccoleri’s moral crusader Jess more anxious than Chloe and Phoebe about this new phase of their lives. Jess leans heavily on best friend Chloe, with Chakravarti effectively drawing out Chloe’s eagerness to fit in, and a nice contrast to both Jess and Hewitt-Richards' terrifically meek Phoebe, who hyperventilates just by looking at a boy. There are nice moments for the trio to ruminate on the joys and horrors of their socially outcast friendship, but it is a bond quickly and believably established. It is also a nice contrast to Broaden’s too-cool Mel, while Vasan’s desperate to impress Joel is a neat touch to look at male teenage awkwardness, too. 

Matters are complicated, though, with Armer’s arrival as Anya. Rosie Elnile’s costume design works well here, immediately dressing Anya to look more mature despite only being a single year older, and it is a confidence that is both impressive and intimidating, as Anya becomes a sage offering sex advice, both emotional and practical, to the terrified trio. Anya is a breath of fresh air for the girls, and Armer’s strutting across the stage oozes power. Armer does explore Anya’s vulnerability, too, in a moment that needs great exploration. 

Battye’s script is at its best when the trio lean on Anya for guidance. It is here where the quick gags, slapstick humour and teenage angst shine through, and the script blends this well for a large majority. The tone is set early when Jess, pressured to answer by Chloe, spits out a mouthful of toothpaste down herself, one of many delightfully silly and even at times puerile gags that match the awkward teenage experience well and carry significant The Inbetweeners vibes. The love interest sparked between Jess and Joel is full of teenage anxiety, subtly underplayed by Burccoleri and Vasan until the final, intimate, moments.

This is reiterated by Elnile’s brilliant set design, splitting the stage into two, with one side the bathroom retreat for the girls, while the boys game on the other side. The split down the middle offers opportunity for awkward encounters and slapstick humour, while the split stage also helps depict the similarities and differences in stress between both groups. At times, the comedy is toe-curlingly cringey, and all the better for it in emphasising the group’s wonderful sexual awkwardness. 

Yet it is also a little too reliant on humour, not resisting the desire to chuck in a joke, which can detract from its more thought-provoking moments. Scenes discussing sexual assault are not given space to breathe, and are quickly undermined by a vomiting drunk, while Mel’s strange misogynistic rant near the play’s conclusion borders on baffling. Like the girls, the play struggles to settle on what it wants to be, with the last twenty minutes flip-flopping too much between comedy and social commentary. 

There is a lot to like here, with gags and interactions that are both terribly funny and terribly cringeworthy, and it is these moments where the production truly shines. While it does attempt to say something heavier about teenage virginity, particularly the pressures on women, like Chloe, Jess and Phoebe, it does not feel totally ready yet, but is certainly not going to shy away either. 

Outrageous at times, and brutally awkward at others, The Virgins is a coming-of-age comedy where self-discovery is at both its terrific and terrifying best. 

The Virgins is currently playing at Soho Theatre until 07th March 2026 - you can find tickets and more information here.

★★★★☆ (4*)

Gifted tickets in return for an honest review | Photography by Camilla Greenwell