Cho’s last one-woman film was a record of her stage show, “I’m the One That I Want,” which chronicled her tale of woe while chasing fame via a TV sitcom. It included some blunt self-assessment and revelations concerning her eating disorders and drinking problem.

This time out, Cho is ready to party. She talks about her own sexual preferences – and practices – as someone pushing the boundaries of her own sense of what she is willing to try. Whether making her first tentative forays into sex swingers’ clubs or discussing her preferences in intimate activities, Cho is unafraid, almost gleefully so, to look silly in search of a laugh.

So she can talk about indulging with new partners at the swingers’ club and find the laughs by imitating their idiosyncrasies. Like the dominatrix with the Valley Girl affect, whose crude command to Cho (which cannot be repeated here) draws laughs not only for the absurdity of its wording but for Cho’s purse-lipped delivery.

Cho is not a spontaneous comic; you get the impression that all of her material is worked out down to the most finely timed pause. The comedy is in the language, but also in Cho’s physicality: the wonderfully appalled faces she makes – and holds until the laughs stop being about the joke she’s just told and start being about the face she’s been holding ever since.

Not that all the material works. At the end, she launches a minor dissertation about self-esteem and her eating disorder. The confessional material, if anything, is even edgier than her sexual humor because it has the feel of truth, revealing the pain behind the jokes she makes. It’s powerful but distracting, though her message of tolerance and self-empowerment are heartfelt.

Raucous and bawdy, Cho’s comedy ultimately is about embracing what makes you unique instead of torturing yourself to conform to someone else’s norms. Though she gets a little preachy at the end, Cho finds wonderfully outrageous ways to get her points across in “Notorious C.H.O.”