Ross Noble Humournoid review | New Theatre Royal, Portsmouth

And as soon as the curtain went back, it was clear why there had to be some planning, even if he had only been in Poole the night before.

He picked his way to the front of the stage through a giant cleft version of his head, huge half-brain showing, illuminated synapses strung like prom lights between the two enormous halves.

The interconnected brain is an obvious metaphor for this most skilled and sharp comedian - streams of consciousness and absurdism collide with heckler-baiting for a really enjoyable show.

Starting off by riffing on his Portsmouth date’s bad luck, latecomers are transformed into the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, which in turn leads to a dressage routine, and we’re off on the rollercoaster.

You don’t ever want to give away a stand-up jokes for a mid-tour review - that’s not fair on anyone. But a quick google of previous dates shows that there genuinely is new material each night - it is clearly a structured show but it’s one where the finest moments come when Noble interacts with the audience - a meat routine inspired by a bizarre heckle was sublime - and when his flights of fancy end up making himself laugh, inevitably we’re watching one of the best comedians at the top of his game.

On the flipside, the stories on which all of this is hung are less impressive - they have the feel of being constructed, or at least overly-varnished - ,rather than having the ring of truth, which hampers the flow. But that matters less as they provide the path to get to Aslan the lion - introduced only because of confusion with a similar word - ending up doing Tommy Cooper-based sign language for Italian mafia films. And sections on Greta Thunberg and how to improve daytime telly and the Winter Olympics are wonderful.

Ross says that he thinks that if he ever develops dementia nobody will notice, given the rubbish that pours from his brain and mouth all the time. He thinks that in the care home nobody will know the difference between a flashback and gobbledygook.

But if it’s even half as funny as last night, the nurses and other residents will be hanging on every word, giggling at donkeys and clown cars, and promising to themselves to remember the sign language for THAT word.