Avenue Q shouldn’t feel like coming home.

And yet, the moment the first interlude played, it did. Then the curtain rose and suddenly they were there. Not just characters, but something familiar.

It took me back to a time when everything still felt possible, when this show got me through the death of my adoptive mother.

That probably sounds too deep for a musical about foul mouthed puppets in a Sesame Street style world.

But that is the point.

I cried. A lot. Not quietly.

Because underneath the racism, the objectification and the chaos, there is real heart. And it is funny. Properly funny.

What the show does so well is hold a mirror up to life, then undercut it. Its central idea, that everything is temporary, should feel bleak. Instead, it lands as oddly reassuring.

Everyone is a bit lost. A bit broke. Occasionally making bad decisions. The show doesn’t judge that. It recognises it.

That simplicity is why it works.

Part parody, part love story, part chaos, Avenue Q, with music and lyrics by Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx, directed by Jason Moore, knows exactly what it is. This 20th anniversary revival leaves the core intact. There are small updates, mostly technical, but nothing that disrupts the experience.

Noah Harrison’s Princeton is all wide-eyed optimism, while his Rod is tightly wound and quietly scene-stealing. Emily Benjamin moves between Kate Monster and Lucy with precision, shifting tone without losing control. Across the cast, the balance is right, no small task given how iconic these characters have become.

There are minor staging changes. Some work better than others, but none distract.

It is not flawless. A few moments don’t quite land, even if it’s hard to pinpoint why. But this is a show that understands its audience. You are in on the joke.

And that matters.

I would go again without hesitation.