Benny Boot is one of the latest Australian imports to the British comedy circuit, and a welcome addition he is to it, too.

Wrapping his wiry frame around the microphone stand, his air is of a too-cool-for-school slacker: a man with the confidence of youth and the instinctive knowledge that life is a joke, not worth sweating over. This charismatic posturing is what makes the act, a carefree attitude that means he can cruise by on charm alone, with the added advantage he has an inbuilt defence against any gags that go awry.

Some indeed do misfire, but not all that many, as he’s got a keen instinct for the joke, an imaginative turn of phrase and an ability to find an offbeat angle to whatever he chooses to talk about. Despite the devil-may-care stance, comedy is clearly something he takes very seriously.

There’s a nice structure to the set, too. The playfulness that pervades the routine extends to the expectations of stand-up, and the running gag that his material has been crafted by a Third World sweatshop holds everything together neatly.

He always seems to be working on new material as he finds his feet on the British scene and there are occasional sections in the routine which aren’t yet fully formed – but it’s all part of his relaxed, easy style.