Becky Goodman bursts onstage pumped and ready. Cher’s Do You Believe thumps through the room before flipping into The Flying Lizards’ deadpan Money (That’s What I Want) — a clever, pointed touch that pays off later in the story.

We rewind to 2013. Goodman is 19, caught up in a dalliance with an older married man. It’s consensual, but she’s treated abysmally — sparking a chain reaction of further relationships with equally unsuitable men, each one leaving a scar or a lesson.

This could so easily slip into pity-party territory, or collapse into a gender rant — a trap that has sunk similar themed shows at the Fringe. Instead, Goodman lifts it into something sharper, funnier, and more layered. The show bristles with songs — My First Time among them — and dialogue that crackles with wit. After a slightly uneasy opening stretch, the show finds its rhythm and pulls the audience right in.

The most surprising, and oddly charming, thread comes with Sal, her sugar daddy. Against expectation, there’s a tenderness in their arrangement, and Goodman tells it with honesty, warmth, and enough self-awareness to avoid cliché.

What really makes this stand out is the script: sharp, bold, and unflinchingly honest. You may not agree with every decision she makes — at times you want to shake her by the shoulders — but you’ll keep watching, compelled. It’s paired with Goodman’s one-woman physicality: dance, movement, and gesture fuel the storytelling in ways that make the words hit harder.

Goodman is a real talent and a singular voice. The piece feels like Neil LaBute had scripted a semi-autobiographical story from a female perspective — Our Friends and Neighbours reimagined darkly  funny song cycle. It makes you angry, entertained, and fascinated all at once.

Another gem from the Free Fringe, and one that deserves to be seen far beyond it.

 ****

Reviewed by Steve H

 Slow Progress Cafe and Records

14.45 to 15.45

Until 24th August