Written by Marcus Youssef. Directed by Chelsea Haberlin. A Studio 58 and Neworld Theatre coproduction. At Studio 58 on Saturday, September 29. Continues until October 14

In its best moments, Incognito Mode: A Play About Porn is as ambitious and timely as it is provocative, distressing, and funny. But Marcus Youssef’s new play, created in collaboration with fifth-term students at Studio 58, is also frustrating and flawed.

Incognito Mode centres on a group of 20-somethings, former high-school friends, reunited again after some time apart. They’re drinking and partying, talk turns to sex and porn, and we see how both have influenced everything from their self-esteem and their intimate relationships to their group dynamic as friends. The commonality, of course, is that they all grew up with relatively easy access to all types of pornography, for better or worse, thanks to the Internet.

The young cast digs into the material with enthusiasm and sensitivity. An early highlight is a raucous and raunchy group dance number with ridiculously over-the-top props, choreography, and costumes. It’s laugh-out-loud funny and the actors are obviously relishing every moment. Chelsea Haberlin’s direction is particularly effective throughout. For the most part, her cast navigates their lines and the stage with confidence, no matter how difficult or revealing the material or the content.

The challenge lies mostly in the script. The playwright demonstrates a lot of compassion and care for the cast and takes the play’s subject matter seriously. Youssef demonstrates a clear understanding that in talking responsibly about pornography, one must also explore its relationship to things like consent, sexual health and sexual violence, queerness, exploitation, gendered violence, feminism, the patriarchy, agency, addiction, desensitization, intimacy, shame, and technology. The script touches on each of these areas, which is no small feat, but it feels clunky in some places, sparse in others, and is generally uneven.

Incognito Mode is fairly progressive and well-informed, but also plays it safe, falling back on stereotypes sometimes rather than challenging them. Two examples: the only depiction of a functional, intimate relationship involves the white, heterosexual couple; and the fat character is written as a joke, always eating and waxing on about food in an absurdly sexualized way. The play succeeds very well in communicating porn’s ubiquity, and makes space for multiple viewpoints on the subject. It clearly distinguishes the difference between ethical and unethical porn, as well as unpacking the effects of the male gaze on young women and the extent of gendered violence and sexual exploitation. It also takes seriously the sexual agency and pleasure of young women, which is vitally important. There’s a huge need for a play like the one Incognito Mode wants to be. This script, this version, just needs a bit more TLC.