A drag-infused musical themed around the struggle with drug abuse, Perfectly Imperfect is a deeply personal show. The composer and sole performer, Grant Bromley, is a recovering addict himself; his protagonist Leo follows a similar journey towards rock bottom and redemption. We soon learn that Leo lost someone important a year ago, and as the anniversary nears he’s struggling to make sense of the world. But at least he has his work: his weekly slot as a headlining drag queen, the much-loved Luce Elastic.

I’m no expert on drag, so I can’t comment meaningfully on how it’s represented here, but as a pillar to build the show around it works extraordinarily well. When Luce is on stage, Perfectly Imperfect functions as a kind of jukebox musical: extracts from songs such as Like A Prayer and Holding Out For A Hero are potent, thematic and fun. Later, as Leo’s descent into dependency nears its lowest point, a spaced-out mangling of Total Eclipse Of The Heart lends poignant new meaning to familiar words. Turn around, indeed.

Meanwhile, in scenes set backstage and with costume removed, original songs chart Leo’s creeping addiction to cocaine. It begins with a searing lament for loss and pain, giving way to a dark and heavy drumbeat while Leo snorts white powder. Later numbers alternate between hope, self-loathing and defiance, as Leo tries to change his path but finds his strength fails him. One by one, his sources of support reach the limits of their compassion and turn away. It’s heavy stuff, but Bromley has a punchy and characterful singing voice which does full justice to these complex and emotional themes.

The ending will divide opinion. After a broken Leo has left the stage, Bromley re-appears as his present-day self and, speaking directly to the audience, explains that his discovery of Christian faith was the first step on the road to his own salvation. This goes beyond telling his personal story; it develops into overt evangelism, something you wouldn’t have predicted from the show’s publicity or listing. I don’t for a moment question Bromley’s sincerity but, from a creative point of view, breaking character wastes some momentum and energy. Building the story of his epiphany into the show itself could be an even more effective way of spreading the word.

Whatever human or divine, the power that showed Bromley the way back to sobriety has also inspired a moving, courageous and genuinely distinctive musical. It’s a cry for understanding and a torch raised for hope: a promise that however dark the moment, the future can still have sequins on.