You can tell by the show’s title that this will not be subtle storytelling from one of Melbourne’s most versatile and volatile actors.

Clacker is not the only c-word Tammy Anderson lets loose in this howlingly funny but often cringe-worthy tour of the body’s private places and less popular functions.

Yes, there are fart jokes. And ones about childbirth, sex, anal infections and incontinence.

Just for starters.

Anderson already has a great reputation for honest and confronting writing and performance, particularly through her solo show I Don’t Wanna Play House, which examined her Tasmanian, aboriginal and sexually-abused background.

It’s grand to see her now take the stage and have fun: as loud and as lewd as she wants.

Her Dallas-like detailing of the streets where she grew up in Launceston in all its incestuous and internecine inter-tangling is worth the visit to the show alone.

As Anderson says: It’s not just material’it’s ammunition.

But this is a comically crude outing in which Anderson is tougher on herself’and on her body’s inappropriate burps, blasts, farts, leaks and malfunctions’than she is on the wider world.

There are so many tales that relate to this girl’s ‘moom’ that you almost expect it to be a co-performer but thankfully it kept silent.

The rapturous crowd went wild over Anderson’s fart impressions’based on what you had for dinner the night before.

It’s a powerhouse production from Ilbijerri under Kylie Belling’s assured direction, and Tammy Anderson is a strong, brave, deadly performer.