He stands before us in tennis whites. Clean-cut and boyish. A slightly goofy smile. He looks around the room and he tries to make eye contact with us. We are about to be seduced. It's what serial killer Ted Bundy, who raped and murdered at least 30 young women between 1974 and 1978, did with his victims, often using his good looks, charm and a feigned injury to disarm the women and put them off-guard. Writer and performer Greg Wohead certainly puts us off our guard.

Wohead came across some graphic confessions made by Bundy posted on YouTube. They are still there. As is a great deal of other material that you wouldn't want to listen to or watch. Or would you? Maybe you'd like to take a peek? Just a tiny one? When Wohead tells people that he is making a show called The Ted Bundy Project, he says that, at first, their expression is one of mock horror. Then they ask eagerly: "What did you find out?" He smiles at us: "What you want to hear is the juicy stuff. Don't worry, we'll get there."

Of course this isn't really a show about Ted Bundy. It's a piece about our fascination with violence, murder and gore. It's about why we remember Bundy, but not the names of the many women he killed. Wohead tells us in detail about an online video depicting a graphic murder and mutilation. He shows us a reaction video of teenage boys watching the murder, their faces shining with a mix of excitement, disgust, glee and horror. One is repeatedly sick but keeps on watching. Just as we keep on watching and listening to Wohead. Yes, it's problematic, deliberately so – but that's because this difficult, slippery show makes us face up to our morbid fascination, a fascination that we share with Bundy himself.

• Until 21 June. Box office: 020-7582 7680. Venue: Ovalhouse. Then touring.