Lost Property

Alice is on the morning tram, observing her fellow passengers, colouring in their backgrounds – who they are, what they do. As she tells us about everyone else, it’s clear that there’s something that’s not being said. Eventually, performer Amelia Dunn admits it: she’s lost something. Her libido. It’s gone. She feels nothing down there.

This one-woman show is a magnificently crafted story of a woman’s quest to find herself again – and not just the way to ‘gaz-town’. She tries recreating times she’s been successful, reading the self-help section at the bookshop where she works, and even therapy, where she dons interesting headgear in an effort to relate. It’s much, much more than that though – it’s how Alice gets back in step with the rest of the world, in work, love and life.

Dunn jumps forwards and backwards through her story to give us piecemeal details, but you know there’s something much more sinister to come. It’s so cleverly written by Dunn and Tuia Suter, who also directs, and you can’t help but want to know what happens next (and what happened before).

Dunn is a veritable thesaurus for the female genitalia – though always delivered in context, never to punctuate, not to offend. There’s plenty to feel uncomfortable about in this brilliantly told story, but it’s not in the language. Suter and Dunn have achieved something remarkable in a story that can be simultaneously laugh-out-loud hilarious and poignant, and Dunn’s ability to express a full range of extreme emotions is wonderful; the way she switches so quickly and believably between them is stunning. Her movement is smooth, and her timing perfect – complemented by the excellent sound and lighting from Madelaine Jamieson.

The characters are well-defined, each with beautiful minutiae that suddenly has much more relevance to the narrative – there are so many strands here, but they are expertly braided together to colour in Alice’s story. With tales of life-long friendships, lovers, jobs and the nuances of female relationships, it’s funny yet moving, relevant and relatable – sadly, more for women than men, yet Dunn includes us all.

Don’t be put off by its location in the West End, or even its start time: both are irrelevant in comparison, though this show needs a bigger stage. Lost Property is an extraordinary and vital piece of theatre.

Review by Mark Wickett

Click here to read our Adelaide Fringe 2025 reviews