Undeniable mainstream star quality is only seldom glimpsed at the Fringe, so when it comes along on a rainy afternoon it really pops. Christopher Hall is an established social media comedian and is no stranger to the Fringe, but with this fourth show he’s found his voice with incredible style.

Or pizazz, more aptly, as a show has rarely been titled so appositely. From moment one, Hall is an inferno of charisma, pinging around the room and into the crowd, striking fierce poses and drawing on a seemingly infinite arsenal of hilarious micro-expressions and asides. 

It reminded me a little of seeing Lou Sanders for the first time, in that every little movement or moment contained something funny, and a lot of watching Mawaan Rizwan’s show Juice, heretofore my personal benchmark for a demonstration of instant star wattage.

Following a brief feint up top that he might actually give a shit about anything other than having fun, Hall begins a neatly structured but completely disposable narrative about… going to a dinner party or something? Honestly, who cares? It’s just a minimalistic hook on which to hang his personality and various stories about parties he’s been to – stag dos, children’s birthdays, and a two-week trip to Zante with the girls and the gays.

Hall may not have many higher ideals on his mind, but his show is not simply the work of some instinctive party animal. The structure and process of the story is smoothly realised, even choreographed, and there’s huge attention to detail being paid in how Hall moves and where he stands. 

The gag writing is also more complex than it looks: little surprises and variances in joke structure have been thrown in everywhere – this is a show that’s heavily predicated on rhythm, but the script fires out funny moments in a complex attack pattern that remains consistently surprising throughout the hour. 

With his Clark Gable matinee idol looks, his triple threat skillset and his outrageous supply of charm, big things of some sort or another seem inescapable.