“Why would you write a play about all the terrible sex that you have had … God Forbid a girl can’t afford therapy,” croons Samantha Carlisle on her TikTok page. “What’s your play about … flesh-peddling slime balls … demented peeping toms…” The play in the spotlight is Messy, a semi-autobiographical solo show which debuts in Cape Town, on May 6 and 7, 2025 at Theatre Arts. In Messy, she dips into her own experiences as an online-sex worker. Beyond the gags, hilarity and fun, we get down to brass tacks with Carlise about taking her play from the market place of millions of OnlyFans subscribers to the intimacy of theatre:

TheCapeRobyn: Is Sam the online-sex worker based on you work as on line sex worker? Or is she a fictionalised amalgamation of you and others?

Samantha Carlisle: The character of Sam is largely based on my own experiences of online sex work. The central storyline of the play revolves around Sam attempting to grapple with her own understanding of sex, love, and intimacy while recounting stories of previous lovers -although perhaps lovers is too generous a word. My own stories of sex work are interwoven into the plot to highlight the ways in which my time as an OnlyFans creator has played a massive part in my own personal understanding of sexual relationships and how to navigate them. Onlyfans continues to teach me a lot of lessons about myself and others -men in particular, unfortunately… some good, some bad, some just downright strange.


TCR: When you say online-sex worker, are you referring to online-sex – not in person – as in live cam shows and livestreams – paid for by clients or platforms?

SC: Yes, although online-sex is quite a broad term. It can be anything from sexting, to feet pics, to live cam shows and more. On my Onlyfans I offer my subscribers a delectable menu of nudes, sexting, pay-per-view video content, penis ratings – great work if you can get it! It largely just involves people asking me to humiliate them and custom kink content.

TCR: Did you work as an online sex worker as material for a play or did you do that work because it was a job and you needed to pay the bills OR did you think it would be interesting work to explore? I realise that sex work is not necessarily a last resort and is a choice made by some, so I am qualifying my question. When were you active as an online-sex worker?

SC: I made my OnlyFans profile in 2020, mid-lockdown, and I’m still active to this day. When OnlyFans really blew up in the mainstream media it began to pique my interest. Online sex work became synonymous with “easy money”, something I later found to be untrue; the money can be good but it’s most certainly not easy—another topic I explore in the play. I had always been comfortable posting “risqué” content on my social media pages so I figured I’d give it a go. I never really thought a play would come out of it, in part because I was in my imposter syndrome era and was convinced I would never be able to write a play people would be willing to watch, but also, despite my confident façade, I was secretly a little bit embarrassed about being a sex worker.

TCR: Can you walk us through the development of the play from your experiences – from page to a stage and working with director Dara Beth – to take it from the stuff that you experienced and how it has impacted on you now on your love/sex life?

SC: I started working with Dara in 2022 when they directed The Year of the Bicycle and it very quickly became clear to me that Dara is one of the most hard-working, talented, and exciting theatre-makers in the industry. Everything they do—whether it’s personal or professional— is rooted in kindness, compassion, and empathy. They are exactly the kind of director that a piece like Messy needs to flourish.

Messy was developed under the banner of Kgokelo, a network for women and gender-diverse playwrights in and from South Africa, founded by Dara, as well as Spark in the Dark, the theatre production company founded by the wickedly talented Sophie Joans. Events hosted by both Spark in the Dark and Kgokelo helped me develop Messy from a silly little monologue about how I lost my virginity to a fully fleshed-out, hour long solo show.

TCR: Can you talk about the characters that you conjure up in Messy?

SC: There are a few smaller characters that pop up throughout the play but the three main characters are Sam, Hoe Exotic and the Afrikaans teacher. Sam is essentially just a heightened version of me. She’s a little bit anxious, a little bit uncomfortable in her own skin but boy does she love to yap. Through her, we see all of the other characters emerge.

The first is Hoe Exotic, her Onlyfans alter-ego. On the surface Hoe Exotic is a bimbo. However, she soon shows herself to be intelligent, well-read, and sharp because, if Paris Hilton has taught us anything, never judge a bimbo by her vocal fry. Hoe Exotic is the personification of Sam’s sex-positive side. 

Then there’s the Afrikaans teacher from Sam’s school days, known for spitting out misogynistic phrases like a patriarchal Pez dispenser. She serves as a representation of Sam’s own internalised misogyny.

TCR: You say that the play offers insight into your “own experiences as an online-sex worker, while still acknowledging the very privileged position from which “you operate” Can you expand on that?

SC: To be a sex worker by choice and to be able to choose to operate solely online, rather than in-person, is not something that is accessible to a lot of sex workers. My experience of sex work, while not always easy, has been really positive for the most part. That is unfortunately not the reality for a large number of sex workers, especially in a country that is rampant with gender-based violence – something femme sex workers experience at an alarming rate. While there can be a lot of joy and humour found in this line of work, there can also be a lot of fear, hatred, and violence. There is also little to no protection against that violence. I have really tried my best not to glamourise it.

TCR: You say that the play “investigates the various ways in which modern dating culture, internalised misogyny, and sex work can impact our relationships and views on sex.” Chatting to young thirty something women, many have said that online dating is like being a sex worker, as one is required to perform, supplying photos, clips, funny alluring bits. They may not be paid – in terms of money – but the sense I am getting is that is transactional. Comments on the modern dating-sex landscape?

SC: Online dating is the pits. Us singles are well and truly in the trenches. I wouldn’t necessarily compare modern dating to sex work – for one, unlike with dating, I’ve never walked away from an experience of online-sex work with chlamydia and a broken heart- but I can certainly see how it can be viewed as transactional. There seems to be this idea that intimacy is a form of labour. With sex work the transactional nature is usually explicit from the get-go. The illusion of intimacy – or in some cases real, genuine intimacy- is exchanged for money. The only distinction is that, with dating, the expectation is that the labour of intimacy isn’t paid for with cash but rather more intangible things like expectations or favours owed, the idea that someone did something nice for you and therefore they are owed intimacy. I will say, the queer dating scene is a lot better though!

RYC: Insights into the design, music?

SC: As with most independent theatre that plans on travelling and touring, we’ve tried to keep it simple but eye-catching. Something I was cognizant of while writing the piece was incorporating things that are generally looked down on because they are deemed “feminine” This is also the reason Hoe Exotic is played as a “bimbo” so the set is covered in various shades, and textures of pink. The fact that I really like pink and have a lot of pink clothes to use for the show may also have influenced that decision but it’s largely because of the first thing. The show itself isn’t very music-heavy but I did listen to a lot of Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan and Charli XCX while writing it because I think the show aligns itself with the themes that those kind of sex-positive femme-pop anthems explore.

RYC: A bit about you please: You grew up in Makhanda and came to Cape Town to study at AFDA. Which year did you graduate – 2018? Then you worked at the Fugard and then came the pandemic and the Fugard closed. So your entrance into the industry was disrupted by the pandemic?

SC: I was born and bred in Makhanda and moved to Cape Town in 2015 to study Live Performance at AFDA under the dream team of Chris Weare, Liz Mills, and Lara Bye. I graduated in 2017 and then did one or two small, independent productions. I also spent some time working as a freelance makeup artist. I was lucky enough to work at The Fugard in various capacities from 2019 right up until it tragically closed in 2020. The pandemic definitely impacted my entrance into the industry at a really crucial point. In 2022 Kamogelo Mhlantla and I performed and produced an iteration of Joanna Evans’ The Year of the Bicycle and from that experience I’ve been fortunate enough to have found a really strong group of friends and colleagues who are making waves in the industry and bringing new life to independent theatre in South Africa.

TCR: Is Messy your first play? In your work, you use “a satirical lens” to explore “baselessly taboo topics such as sex and internalised misogyny and the various ways in which women claim their voice in the 21st century”; can you tell us how this journey of unfettered disclosure come about?

SC: This is the first play I’ve written. I’ve always been a yapper. I’m the girl you meet on a night out who spends the entire night in the smoking section oversharing to a bunch of strangers. I’ve just harnessed that energy and used it to put metaphorical pen to paper. For a large part of my life I’ve also been very comfortable, sometimes a little bit too comfortable, talking about my sex life. I think sex is, by its nature, a little bit ridiculous and a little bit funny so I find it to be a fun topic to discuss and write about. I also think it’s important to let women and femmes be vulgar. There seems to be this expectation that, even when discussing something like sex, women should keep it classy but that’s just not realistic. I’ve not been classy a day in my life and I think I’m much happier for it.

TCR: Anything else to add?


SC: I would like to encourage theatre-makers and writers to look into Kgokelo and Spark in the Dark and get involved where they can. Both organisations are a wonderful, accessible resources. Thank you for the interview.

✳ For details of the debut season of Messy in Cape Town in May 2025, see press release, https://thecaperobyn.co.za/stage-debut-of-messy-semi-autobiographical-solo-show-written-and-performed-by-samantha-carlisle/