Anyone heard of vulvodynia? I haven’t and I reckon neither have most of the audience at the Pow Wow Room. But we don’t need to google it because here is Mave – originally from Uruguay and now resident New Zealand – to tell us. She sashays onstage to ‘Love is a Burning Fire’ (Johnny Cash) and it’s an astonishingly apt song as we’re to find out.

We’re here to learn about her private bits and pre-existing conditions that even insurance may not cover. It’s fertile ground for innuendo and there’s plenty of that to come. Even a gynaecologist couldn’t identify what was causing Mave so much pain, and it’s taken years to get a diagnosis. On the way, however, our sufferer has learned heaps – including a whole new vocabulary for those private parts.

Having vulvodynia comes with predicaments other than physical. How to introduce yourself to a potential new boyfriend? What will airport security staff think? On the other hand, benefits include homework of a very pleasurable nature.

What we’re hearing is unusual enough, but outlandish is an understatement when it comes to the high point of Mave’s performance. She disappears for a moment, only to return as a visual presentation of what she’s talking about. Gasps from the audience precede verbal challenges for the men present. Yes, you’ll be tested on how well you’ve listened and how much you know about female anatomy.

And here’s my only note of disappointment. After such an extraordinarily graphic climax – accompanied by the hilarity of discovery – where could this performance go? Mave’s subsequent musings on the three types of men, plus an increasing number of ums and ahs, amounts to a somewhat lame ending. Why not leave us with the most powerful statement possible of a matchless anatomy lesson in full cry?

Women – see this show, and bring your men.

PS: There’s an information handout available and the names of those who can help the 15% of women suffering from this condition.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer