Graphic without being tasteless. Moving without being manipulative. And powerful without being sensational. It's a tough balance to find, but Martin Moran's one-man autobiographical show The Tricky Part, now playing at Signature Theater manages to accomplish it.

The frequently taboo subject matter of the tale -- Moran had a three-year sexual relationship with an older man from the ages of 12-15 -- can inspire a little wariness on the outset. But Moran eases us into the more disturbing elements gently. His style is casual and conversational. Moran begins with regaling us with gentle, amusing tales of his Catholic upbringing that will ring familiar to anyone with a similar educational background. His nuns are people rather than caricatures, but his experiences still are rather universal -- the well-meaning guilt trips, the confusing bouts with ideas like "eternity." We really get a glimpse of what Moran was like as a young boy -- which means when we find out what happens to him, the blow is that much more profound.

The show isn't strictly chronological -- it most often bounces back and forth between Moran as a boy, and an experience decades later when he chooses to confront his abuser (who was later jailed and released for crimes to another boy) at a medical facility. Moran gets to what happened between him and his 30+ year old camp counselor by dimming the lights and reading us a journal entry he wrote several years ago, when he was best trying to remember the exact sequence of events.

His memory for detail is astounding, his language nearly poetic. Hearing the play-by-play is devastating, but we're more moved by Moran's explorations of his emotional state following the affair, his brief but telling glimpses into the ways it affected him (we hear briefly of years of sexual dysfunction, for example), and the eloquent way he comes back to the concept of a loss of innocence as the work moves forward.

Moran sees himself and the perpetrator as much more than one-dimensional figures of the victim and the offender. He frequently stresses to us how profoundly loved he felt by this man, and how the negative experiences are so ickily intertwined with the fact that this is the guy who taught him how to love the outdoors, embrace the wonders of science. He also feels so much more than blind hatred when he meets him years later -- there's pity, there's disgust, there's even an odd need for approval. There's a fascinating element, too, where we, without the emotional connection and personal history with the perpetrator, we see him as much more of a monster, and get a glimpse into the way he manipulates Martin, even in adulthood.

The Tricky Part is a theatrical experience at its most raw -- Moran literally bares his soul, and it's a soul we care about and want to protect, as he gives us just the briefest of exposure to the suffering that plagued him for decades. It's hard to watch, but it's something that must be seen. The show runs through Feb. 17 -- tickets are available online.