Stephen Grant

Stephen Grant is a comic whose toil cannot be over-stated. The evidence is there on the back of his shirt which, over the course of an hour, becomes entirely drenched in sweat. Not that he’s a particularly physical comedian, but in the confines of a clammy room, Grant stretches every mental sinew and wrings out every fibre of comedic possibility from his material.

Opening with him chatting/insulting/flirting with members of the audience via his laptop, the show soon gets into its relatively lo-fi stride as Grant aims to puncture the injustices and rub out the inaccuracies he sees all around him. You can just picture him pacing the carpet while someone on his telly talks about ‘PIN numbers’. Which is all fine, though it’s less comfortable to hear him guiltily considering how handy it would be for someone to die so he could take their plum job. But he isn’t just here to complain and moan; Grant is an inventor and his closing gambit on innovations he would happily take into the Dragons Den is at first nonsensical, yet on closer inspection shows a man in tune with his era and surrounding. Perhaps this is the true sign of genius. (Brian Donaldson)

Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 27 Aug, 6pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£10.50).