Jason Manford

Edinburgh is, as Jason Manford observes, a hilly city: "I've been here two weeks and not walked downhill yet." Good so far. "It's like it's been designed by Dali or something." Ah. A small quibble: one suspects Mr Manford might be referring, in fact, to M. C. Escher. It's a quibble, however, that would have to be expressed loudly to compete with uprorious laughter, because Manford's humour isn't particularly cerebral but it is, as it transpires, particularly funny.

Despite performing in a festival steeped in the pursuit of satirical standup, it would smack of left-wing dogma to dismiss Manford's non-political observational style as irrelevant – as insufficiently alternative. It's certainly clear that Manford doesn't really 'do' politics: a joke about Iraq culminates not in debate, but in "international wordplay" as the comic proudly asserts. But who cares? Not the 2005 Perrier nominee. And certainly not his giggling audience.

Sure, some of the material is a little unadventurous: the Mancunian tours the (English) urban centres, prodding at stereotypes, football and driving habits. It's a safe but shrewd selection of topics – observations on "the wave" between drivers are familiar enough to foster a sense of camaraderie throughout the audience, egging on laughs and audience contributions complete with pantomime 'oohs' and 'aahs'. Dissatisfied with traditional audience questioning, audience participation is the norm for Manford's set. Just don't challenge the comic to a staring contest – he's very good at it.

It's well pitched observational comedy and it's exceptionally good fun. So much so, that it's not worth dallying on the Dali slip.