Coping with grief comes in many forms.

Some people hole up away from the outside world, some lash out and curse the world, some seek support in the arms of friends and family. For Jess Karamjeet and Sophie Gibson, it’s creating a phenomenal award-winning hour of stand-up and music, that provides a beautiful, safe pathway through the stages of grief and provides an amazing heartfelt insight into their endlessly creativeness minds.

Grief-Sex-Race opens up with a great bop about what they have in common with each other (Things in Common), and indeed, many of the audience members. It settles us in with a great cosy vibe and a few content warnings that assure us that we’re in good hands. They explain the shape of the show, what to expect and begin with the last of their title subjects; Race. Sophie hilariously clears the stage, leaving Jess to work her magic.

It’s a little touch like this that really shows these two understand their subject material. They’re going out of their way to give each other space on stage, to reinforce the idea that these taboo subjects are going to be discussed with utmost reverence. Jess, while solo, talks about growing up mixed-race in the UK, being one of the only people that look like her in the district. She’s incisive and hilarious with her commentary on her mixed-culture name and those of the family around her. She is constantly cheeky, with an honest reassurance that it’s okay for the white people in the room to laugh.

The absence of Sophie is relieved for the return of the Sex portion of the show, where the two of them discuss sex as a coping mechanism for grief. This is where Sophie Gibson’s guitar playing really comes into play with hilarious, catchy anthems drenched in irony (Fuckboys and You’re a Dickhead). Before any of us know, we’re singing along to the phenomenal choruses, when we’re able to stop cracking up in our chairs. It’s musical comedy at its most cutting and it’s so satisfying to listen to songs that are both musically and lyrically banging. The audience cannot stop grinning.

But this is a trap.

The final act of the show is, of course, grief and everything that entails. It’s immensely personal and no easy task to convey so truthfully, but they pull it off without a hitch. I really, really don’t want to spoil anything here, because the best way to experience this show is to go in with trust and have that trust repaid with a wonderful climax that had me gasping in horror at the reality of what grief truly is. I’m truly lucky in that I am yet to experience a grief as heart-wrenching as this, but this is genuinely the closest I’ve ever really come to understanding it. I still don’t know what it truly feels like, but I’m grateful for Jess and Sophie’s insight for the inevitable day that I do.

At the top of the show, I thought I would end up feeling pity for these two grieving women. I do not. What I feel is nothing but pure admiration for their courage, their talent and their attitudes that allow them to put on such a phenomenal show. Even though the audience tonight was small, you could have sworn it was a full house with the cheers and hollers. Grief-Sex-Race is a powerful, harrowing and hilarious journey through all three of its subjects, flawlessly guided by these talented performers.

As they’ve said themselves, if you’ve suffered grief, struggling with sex, or you’re a cool race, you owe it to yourself to watch this show.

Rest in Peace, Jim and Scott.

Grief-Sex-Race is running from 27th of March to the 6th of April, 7.30pm at the Queen Victoria Women’s Centre, and from 7th to the 18th of April, 9.30pm at Club Voltaire. Tickets available from Melbourne International Comedy Festival website.