When she turns that withering distain against those she’s supposed to love – her wife and their three-year-old twins – the result is exquisite, with plentiful raucous laughs at the sheer wrongness of picking on defenceless children for their natural behaviour, or a lover just because she has the misfortune to be French. There’s an underlying self-deprecation in this, knowing that she’s saying what usually remains unsaid, which only makes the ferocity of the attacks more appealing.

Getting older is a more familiar stomping ground for comics of her generation, but this 48-year-old handles it adeptly, occasionally leaving the audience to join the dots to get the jokes; while her personal reaction to the pressure to boycott her favourite fast-food chain, Chick-Fil-A, over its homophobic corporate stance is a delicious example of the modern curse of principles versus pragmatism.

On party politics, the effect is more muted, by mere fact there are so many comics mocking the Republican hopefuls – not to mention so many reasons to mock them. She has some excellent lines on the likes of Ron Paul and Newt Gingrich, but also some very familiar arguments, such as ridiculing Rick Santorum’s opposition to same-sex marriages by pointing out it won’t be compulsory.

Similarly, wishing both Barack and Michelle Obama would release their ‘inner black people’ is both formulaic and oddly racist, as if a black person couldn't possibly be intelligent, level-headed and well-mannered. Old hat it may be, but it’s lapped up by a sold-out audience nonetheless.

Her tone of shrill incredulity is a powerful force, and she’s excellent at picking up Australians in general and this audience in particular on their hypocrisies. But this is not an interactive show, she’s telling you what you think, dammit, and you’d better shut up and listen. And laugh.