You can't miss this uplifting exploration of queer trauma

Imagine a radically modern play about trauma. Safety is paramount, so a therapist is on-hand – both in the rehearsal room, and in the audience on performance nights. Alternating bouts of gripping drama and absurd comedy propel us through the bumpy journey of recovering from sexual assault. Everything is rooted in reality. The title of the play feels delightfully old-school-mystery in its alliteration, but with a clitoris sandwiched in there.

If (like me) you live an existence devoid of clitorises, you might wonder "Is this play for me?" The answer is a resounding yes! The Clitoris Conundrum presents universal truths about trauma – about surviving and thriving – and highlights perspectives that everyone should understand.

The Clitoris Conundrum is playful and delightfully naughty. Director Sean Dioneda Rivera calls it "a distinctly Gen Z show". Nonetheless, the play transcends generations, addressing issues that have been playing on my own mind recently. A loud Gen-Xer sitting behind me exclaims "Oh to be young again!" because the onstage friendships and conflict ring true to his own experiences.

Unfortunately I never saw the debut 2024 production of The Clitoris Conundrum at Basement Theatre so can't compare. Playwright Connor Amor-Bendall explains that she "couldn't resist copious rewrites" for this revised work, benefiting from two years of growth as a writer. I am sure the script is stronger for it.

Upscaling the production to Q Theatre's Loft has worked wonders for its luscious red set – thanks also to set and lighting designer Grace Newton. The deep stage is divided into two sections, separated by a veil that alternates between translucent and opaque lighting and delineates between the more intimate and energetic locations of the play. The veil is a perpetual barrier, embodying trauma as a persistent obstacle that gives us glimpses of the things we desire yet stops us from reaching them. A functioning old-school TV is a nice touch that playfully contradicts the explicitly modern-day setting of Clitoris Conundrum, while nudging along some key elements of the plot.

Molly Curnow beautifully plays Cameron, a sexual assault survivor who struggles to assert control of her own destiny, even as society throws obstacles in her way, and the people she loves deprive her of autonomy. The journey is emotional and believable. The trauma is vivid and palpable.

Nikolai Puharich is the adorable Ariki, who loves Cameron (platonically) but meddles far too much for his own good and isn't above spiteful behaviour when he is hurt. He gets me thinking about what it is to be a gay man, and how we respond to the hateful setbacks that get thrown at us.

Connor Amor-Bendall is the loving and intelligent Ava, who navigates a complex landscape of romance with Cameron and antagonism from Ariki, getting caught up in their hurtful webs of deceit. She turns out to be more susceptible to some lies than others, making her an interesting and layered character for the audience to understand.

The relationship between Cameron and Ava is heartwarming and electric. Who doesn't love a cute gay romance!

Lydia Buckley brings comedic gold to the play through her four distinctive characters, grounded in reality yet ramped up to absurdity. The audience recognise in Buckley's performance the truth, sass, and attitude of real people we encounter – and we love it!

Choreographer Kayla Paige uses sparse gestures to embody the intense trauma that is welling up within the characters, along with some beautiful dance sequences.

Sound designer Kédu Aka Jess Penson plays with music, heartbeats, and even vocals to create a unique soundscape that grounds The Clitoris Conundrum in raw realism.

Sound, lighting, and choreography combine to portray intense "heartbeats" of PTSD flashbacks, growing in speed and intensity – but at the peak, each heartbeat sound cue starts before the previous has finished, cutting it off and creating a distracting "crack" sound that could be remedied by shortening the heartbeat sound effects or allowing them to play over the top of each other.

There was a point in the play at which I found the level of deception too absurd to believe – but then I realised that Ava wasn't deceived in all the ways I thought she was, and I settled back into the comfort of feeling that this story is completely real.

The Clitoris Conundrum is a 70-minute show playing at 6:45pm every day until Saturday 21 February. Do get along to see it – they thoroughly deserve another sold-out season! See the Q Theatre website for more information.