Should we be concerned that the big sell-out show (in the ‘full house’ sense) is Part Time Prostitute: the secret life of a Wellington hooker? It is, after all, little more than a PowerPoint-illustrated talk in undies (we haven’t paid enough for further exposure) plus a few props of the trade. What does that say for all the creative energy that has gone into so many of the other shows, with their judiciously crafted themes, plots, characters and production values?

Of course it’s the content that attracts the masses: mostly 20-to-30-something couples, often in groups. Pairs of women are also in evidence. As a man alone, I’m rare.

As for the form, the much-feted On the Conditions and Possibilities of Helen Clark Taking Me as Her Young Lover, adapted by director Geoff Pinfield and performer Arthur Meek from ‘the scurrilous booklet’ by ‘Richard Meros’, was a PowerPoint presentation too, but a highly imaginative fantasy quest to boot.  Fiona Samuel’s likewise fictitious Lashings of Whipped Cream may also be described as a straight talk from a working girl to the audience, who are cast in that case as a block booking of prospective clients for Mistress Dominique’s bondage and discipline dungeon. And again, this requires acting from the performer.

What real life part-time prostitute ‘Anita F Mann’ cum writer/director ‘Lucy Johnson’ cum performer ‘Rachel Rouge’ cum Producer/Designer Rachel Walton (who is an office manager during a 40-hour week) delivers is a vivid verbal report of her actual experiences as a weekend daytime prostitute at a mid-range Victoria Street boutique brothel.

As a brave ‘coming out’ in the wake of the decriminalisation of ‘the oldest profession’, it is informative, educational and entertaining: what more do we want? Listed as Comedy in the Fringe brochure, it is more than stand-up and less concerned with getting laughs than simply demystifying the occupation. And nothing serves comedy better than truth.

Rachel is educated, honest and articulate with an extensive vocabulary. She happily uses explicit terms as she shares facts, figures, fears and discoveries made during her professional sex-for-money encounters with 198 men over 106 shifts.

On opening night her descriptions variously provoke laughter, grossed-out gasps, shrieks shout-outs and banter – all well handled by Rachel.

Assuming the whole audience is ‘sexually active’, or would like to be, the Fringe bar is almost audibly abuzz with internal conversations, comparing and contrasting personal experiences, moral stand-points and value systems with those espoused by Rachel – who is clearly aware she is having this effect, and loving it.

While she is unabashed about the ego-massaging pretence she brings to her work, justifying it on professional customer service terms, she also articulates the politics of the profession and exudes an unexpected level of integrity that elicits waves of approval from her riveted audience.

Rachel is very clear that she does not speak of, or for, all prostitutes but what she does do is gives us a welcome contrast from the usual stereotypes, which of course date from a time when it was illegal and comparatively dangerous on a number of levels.

Part Time Prostitute: the secret life of a Wellington hooker offers much more than a voyeuristic peek and it does push the proverbial envelope. Good Fringe fare. 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer