Patrick Monahan: Cowboys and Iranians

Patrick Monahan's set contains none of the Stetson-waving, sand-based warfare that its title might lead you to expect. If you're looking for George Bush jokes then go elsewhere. But if it's an amiable ramble about women's magazines, dictatorial grandmothers and a weakness for fondant fancies you're after, then Monahan delivers the right flavour of comedy.

With conspicuously practised skill he delivers an enthusiastic and occasionally manic view on life with no more than a passing reference to the show's title, which is the only hint that his dark features and Geordie accent are the result of anything other than a conventional English background.

Monahan saves what might be a far too friendly and familiar set by conducting some fearless audience interaction, with results ranging from the merely embarrassing to the downright cruel. Persuading an awkward 14-year-old to touch another audience member's moustache may be a relatively cheap improvised gag, but if Monahan is taking mental notes as to which ones get the most laughs, few youngsters in the front row are likely to emerge unscathed from future shows.

Cowboys and Iranians isn't groundbreaking. It has no clever theme to really tie it together and no recurring riff. Each comedy avenue he explores feels less like uncharted territory than a slightly neglected garden path. Yet Monahan's effortless shimmying between solid material and quick-witted interaction manages to coax hilarious character traits out of even the most staid audience member, provoking heartfelt laughs and giving his show a great deal of charm.