Jo Randerson lives life at full voltage, fuelled by a restless, fiercely funny creative energy. Diagnosed with ADHD in their 40s alongside their son, Jo’s lifelong superpower drives their acclaimed work across performance, writing, film, activism, and more.
Jo Randerson’s Speed is Emotional isn’t just a show — it’s a livewire plunge into the chaos, colour, and comedy of living a neurodiverse life. Delivered with their trademark intensity, this genre-blending performance pulses with radical honesty, riotous humour, and electric creative energy. It’s a rollercoaster through the brain of someone who experiences the world in fast-forward — and chooses not to hit the brakes.
Randerson, a widely respected figure across Aotearoa’s arts landscape, has long defied categorisation. Their work spans theatre, writing, comedy, activism, direction and curation. With Speed is Emotional, they turn that kaleidoscopic lens inward — reflecting on life with ADHD, queer identity, parenting, and a brain that never really sits still. They use every tool in the creative toolkit — poetry, music, projections, sound, costume, improvisation — to craft a show that is part confession, part celebration, and entirely self-aware.
The title, Speed is Emotional, is both literal and metaphorical. “Speed” refers not only to Randerson’s hyper-charged pace and quick-fire thinking, but also to stimulant medication often prescribed for ADHD — a cheeky, knowing nod to the diagnostic path of discovery they took later in life. The emotional speed — the intensity of feeling, the joy and pain that come with an unfiltered inner world — is what defines the show’s tempo and tone.
Diagnosed in their 40s after their son went through the same process, Randerson began to see their lifelong traits — boundless energy, deep sensitivity, scattered focus, bursts of brilliance — not as failings, but as part of a wider neurodiverse spectrum. This diagnosis isn’t a conclusion but a starting point: an invitation to reframe, revalue, and reclaim.
And reclaim they do — with absolute ferocity.
The show’s structure follows a loose but intentional rhythm. There are no chapters or tidy segments. Instead, we are ushered through thematic “waves” — hyperactivity, anxiety, depression, impulsivity, emotional intensity — often presented through metaphor, movement, or sound. The result is a theatrical landscape that feels alive with internal motion.
Randerson performs inside, outside and all around a variously-suspended canvas, often speaking directly to audience members, engaging them with eye contact, questions, and physical proximity. Props are not static objects but active players: a the backdrop becomes a hiding place and a womb. Costumes and lighting are used with wit and precision. It’s a visual and auditory playground — a place where mess becomes meaning. Music from Elliot Vaughan underscores the experience with tenderness and tension, at times swelling into chaotic crescendos and a few comedic interruptions. The set itself is an extension of Randerson’s mind — chaotic, creative, bursting with symbolism.
This isn’t theatre that washes over you — it draws you in. One moment you’re laughing out loud at the absurdity of a memory, the next you’re wincing at a story of self-harm or shame. The tonal shifts are swift but intentional — like an ADHD thought spiral made visible. You’re not just watching a show, you’re inside it.
There’s something deeply courageous about the rawness of this work. Speed is Emotional speaks candidly about experiences many might shy away from: the pain of parenting while undiagnosed, the isolation of not fitting in, the internalised shame of being “too much.” Coarse language is used not for shock but for sincerity, and the occasional reference to self-harm is delivered with the care and clarity of someone who has done the work to understand those parts of themselves.
What stands out most, though, is the laughter. This is a comedy, and it’s funny as hell. Not in a polished, stand-up way — but in a freewheeling, punchy, rebellious but poetic kind of way. Randerson wields humour like a torch in a dark tunnel: guiding us, warming us, but also revealing the weird corners we might otherwise miss. It’s this balance — between vulnerability and humour, absurdity and depth — that makes the show feel not only personal, but generous.
Randerson is open about their identity as both queer and neurodiverse — identities that sit at the heart of this performance. But rather than delivering a “representative” narrative, Speed is Emotional instead offers an invitation: to view these identities not as limitations but as perspectives, each with its own unique rhythm, insight, and power.
For those who identify as LGBTQIA+ or have ADHD, this show will land with a special kind of resonance. You may find yourself nodding along in recognition, laughing with relief, or quietly tearing up as Randerson names things you’ve never heard aloud before. But even for those outside these communities, there’s plenty to connect with. At its core, Speed is Emotional is about self-understanding, forgiveness, and embracing the messy, marvellous chaos of being alive. As Randerson puts it: “Maybe there’s no such thing as normal. Maybe we’ve been aiming for the wrong thing all along.”
The final scene — where Jo is joined by their partner Thomas and their children for a musical finale — feels like an act of radical inclusion. It’s a moment that transcends performance and moves into something much more intimate: a declaration that family, art, and identity are not separate worlds, but overlapping, co-creating forces.
Speed is Emotional is a bold, brilliant piece of theatre. It’s a show that fizzes with life, jokes, tangents, tears, and truths. It’s also a love letter — to the arts, to neurodiversity, to queer joy, and to the strange, speeding rhythms of a brain that refuses to be boxed in.
If you’re looking for a tidy narrative or a passive viewing experience, this might not be your show. But if you're ready to lean in, laugh, feel, and rethink what it means to be "normal" — then Speed is Emotional will meet you right where you are, with glitter, grit, and a grin.
Dates: Speed is Emotional runs from 16 Apr – 03 May at Auckland's Q Loft Theatre
Tickets can be purchased here
Duration: 75 mins approx.