A biting comedy tackling big questions about artificial intelligence and humanity.
Zack’s (Izaak Hamilton-New) flat mate Jo (Rachel Duncan) is spiralling after a bad break-up, but Zack has a plan. The AI company he works for is entering them into a beta test for their latest large language model (LLM). This one comes with a humanoid body, which Zack configures to replicate his flat mate’s former lover (Rhiannon Lucy Bird). Predictably, Jo is hostile to this eerie carbon-copy, demanding it be sent back to the factory or “dropped off at the nearest CEX”. Zack stands his ground, keen to see the experiment through. Tapping into a highly relevant debate, zoë.exe’s dark humour opens up powerful questions about how far AI should intersect with humanity.
Both script and cast are at their strongest when delivering rapid-fire jokes, particularly Jo’s sarcastic putdowns fired off with compelling vigour – “I won’t give it a chance. It’s not Zumba, it’s an affront to human nature!”. Early on, patchy Wi-Fi causes robot Zoe to freeze mid-sentence, before resuming at inopportune moments; this lands like a modern Two Ronnies sketch. Jo and Zack play Guess Who? based on vibes alone: “would I date them?”, “would they date you?”.
Where zoë.exe falters is not in its ideas or humour, but in the unevenness of its early dramatic delivery. Jo’s anger and sadness don’t match the power of her words – this is someone desperate enough that her flat mate has robo-cloned her girlfriend, yet sometimes it feels like she’s just encountering a mild inconvenience. Zack has a tendency to deliver each word with identical volume and pace, which flattens the effect. Both performances would benefit from taking more risks to feel bigger, although they do perk up later.
Rhiannon Lucy Bird has the hardest job, playing a non-human pretending to be human. Whilst not everything succeeds – a rebooting sequence is too flouncy to feel robotic – she nails the saccharine false-positivity that afflicts every AI assistant. Her closing monologue is impressive, snapping unnaturally between emotional states. At its best, the rest of the cast match this skill: Jo’s verbal cruelty the first time she’s left alone with Zoe is genuinely uncomfortable; and when this acerbic wit is levelled at Zack, he crumbles convincingly.
The drama of zoë.exe thrives in these intimate moments, but that’s not to say it fails to engage with bigger ethical questions. Does it matter if you hurt an AI’s feelings? Should an LLM have a say in how it’s being used? Is there something special about human-human interactions that technology will never replicate? Unlike many self-described dark comedies, zoë.exe’s humour effectively sharpens these discussions, making a worthwhile contribution to the debate. Given that we haven’t found answers to these questions in the real world, an ambiguous ending is fitting.
These ideas feel distinctly 2026 – this isn’t even the only show I’ve seen about humanoid AI this month! But leaning into its comedy without flinching away from uncomfortable reality means zoë.exe remains equal parts intriguing and fun. Initially wooden performances don’t change this. If sharing such a characteristically human experience is two fingers up to AI slop, count me in!
zoë.exe is part of the Peckham Fringe, playing again at Theatre Peckham on 27th May. Tickets can be purchased here. The full Peckham Fringe lineup can be seen here.