Kent Valentine’s set is essentially an autobiographical narrative about his love life. It’s a clever format that means that even when a joke fails, the audience’s interest is kept alive by the story itself. Valentine swaps poses every now and again, from loud and tightly wound joker to confidential storyteller on bent knees.

There are a handful of guffaws in the set, my personal favourite being a depiction of the ‘Interventionist God’ working away at his world computer (with a cameo by Allah). In fact, while Valentine does not alter his voice greatly, his impressions of people are a highlight of the act.

However, he is a newbie to the circuit and it shows in his limited ability to interact with the intimate audience. He does pass a bag of jelly beans round to begin the show, but later, when he ad libs during the set or addresses members of the audience, the flow is interrupted. Occasionally he will notice a joke that has failed and send it off with a muttered epitaph: ‘I took a chance, and it didn’t work. Moving on’? These small lapses in self-assurance diminish his otherwise confident tone.

While the set has its lesser moments and lulls in the laughter, Valentine engages his audience and appears at ease before them. And, most importantly, he displays several flashes of comedy gold, which indicate that young Kent Valentine could be looking at a successful comic career.