There’s something immensely likeable about Jamie D’Souza, partly because an hour in his company never feels like you’re being attacked with charisma. 

Presenting himself as a downtrodden, albeit chipper, data analyst for a supermarket chain he talks naturally about his low status and inability to get laid without ever feeling like he’s particularly upset about it. Like everything he does, his comic persona is naturalistic and worn lightly, underpinned by joke writing of an expert standard.

Brownie is built around an unintrusive PowerPoint that explains how to get away with doing nothing at work, but the more persistent thematic strand is about friendship and how we compare ourselves to those around us. For D’Souza, the key friendships are Harry, who is his lens into adult relationships, and his best friend Tom, a promiscuous gay man who represents a wilder and freer life than D’Souza is capable of.

Being himself, he is compelled to examine these other lives through the medium of data analysis, sharing some very funny graphs and statistics he’s generated on the topic. 

Data analysis might not sound like an especially compelling USP for a performer, but D’Souza is good at his job – or rather both his jobs – even when it feels like he’s not trying. A series of charts assessing the potential statistical outcomes of sex dice is a solid gold routine that feels ready for the clubs.

When he strays away from these central stands, he’s perhaps a little less engaging, and his joke structures have the tendency to take on a more traditional pull-back-and-reveal format. 

Some personal revelations, like the fact that he suffered from bulimia in his twenties, are burned quickly on these jokes before he moves away again, like he’s dipping his toe into vulnerability without fully committing. 

So there’s room for expansion here and there, but so much of it is already working to a very high standard. Mild-mannered as he is, he seemed almost shocked at the force of the applause.