Talk about acting with the eyes! For the hour that this funny, involving one-woman show lasts, it's almost impossible to keep yours off hers.

The eyes in question belong to Sonya Kelly, and they're the subject of this piece in more ways than one: their travails through the murky depths of myopia are what the play's about; and Kelly also makes us see the world through them.

Kelly's eyes were very bad indeed, a fact that by her own telling went undetected at home and school until she was seven. She'd climb on adults' laps just to discover what they looked like, earning her a reputation as an affectionate child. "Share the love, see the world," as she puts it.

Eventually she pays a hilarious, poignant visit to the Eye and Ear Hospital, "a large blurry building nestled among the woolly trees of Adelaide Road".

This is perhaps more monologue than show, but – aided by director Gina Moxley – Kelly's vivacity, and especially those eyes, blur the distinction. Rich in childhood comedic detail, including a closet relationship with Abba, it will please viewers of all lens-prescriptions and none.

Harry Browne