If Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zach Braff somehow had some awkward Australian love child it would probably be Shane Adamczak. I first came to know Adamczak through his work with Sound and Fury (who I love) in the 2015 Adelaide Fringe. I was then lucky enough to see his other show that year, Greg Fleet’s well received This is not a Love Song (which I also loved). Needless to say, I had high expectations going in to Trampoline.

From the first piece of this wonderful well-written whimsy, it was obvious this show would not disappoint. I was immediately engulfed in the world of Matt, a socially nervous, kind of weird guy. He dreams far more than the average person, and sometimes these dreams bleed into Matt’s reality.

So what does a person who is seeing things do? They see a shrink. And these sessions seem to be his only normal interactions until he meets his new neighbour, Kelly. She is a bit weird, too; she, like he, is a massive over-sharer, and for once Matt is doing the listening. His therapist starts to see the benefits of this friendship, until Matt finds out something about Kelly which forces him to confront a moral dilemma. Is keeping the friendship worth more than doing the right thing?

Adamczak is simply adorable as Matt; Whitney Richards moves between clever and quirky, playing the therapist and Kelly respectively; and St John Cowcher is fantastically hilarious, and often steals the show as Matt’s cousin and a variety of Matt’s apparitions.

This work is just clever. The writing, the imaginative use of props, and the music come together to bring you something truly special – something reminiscent, but not derivative of, those Indie-style movies like Juno or Perks of Being a Wallflower. And, like Perks, there is a dark side to this show – this is not a straight boy-meets-girl story.

Trampoline is touching, endearing and slightly magical, and I left with a warmed heart and an ear-to-ear grin.