Aberdonian posh-boy David Whitney is a graduate of the Mitch Benn school of delivery; a powerful baritone who hectors the audience into listening by sheer force of conviction. It’s very theatrical, not entirely convincing, but demonstrably effective.

That style knocks on to the material. You’re not entirely sure whether some of the things he says are genuine – claiming to be an ex-pilot, for instance – or simply a contrivance to provide a gag or two. But other aspects of his life – that he was in the Army, that he’s Scottish despite having a pronounced English accent, or that he had a bungled encounter with Nicole Kidman in a hotel – have more of a ring of truth.

But whoever the ‘real’ David Whitney is, one thing is certain: that the impassioned hard sell he gives to all his routine gets the laughs, even if such a loud, forced delivery would be obnoxious in real life.

There is certainly a spirit of fun in his set, alongside some decent gags, even if they’re mixed with some more pedestrian American-bashing swipes or workaday observations about the things you can’t take on planes.

Despite coming across as rather arrogant onstage, he’s still a relatively new act, having only started in 2006. Once he’s more clear about his comic voice and persona, he has the performance skills and innate humour to be able to pull it off.