Tom Wrigglesworth's Open Return Letter to Richard Branson

A quick straw poll amongst most Britons will reveal a deep-seated dissatisfaction with our trains. Older generations would offer a eulogistic assessment, recalling days before asinine Pendolinos and cross-country supertrains that seem to be in a permanent state of gestation. Us younger complainants are primarily tired of lateness and the heartless oberfuhrers that prowl the aisles.

Little wonder, then, that Tom Wrigglesworth's choice of material has the eighty-odd audience firmly behind him from the get-go. By focusing on a sticky situation the beanpole comic gets himself into after confronting one of the aforementioned sinister Virgin ticket inspectors, he's appealing to a strong common feeling; and the theme gives his show a completeness lacking in previous Fringe offerings. He's still the same wistful Northern comic of a distinctly Kitson-esque bent, but less disjointed and with a message firmly in hand.

It's a smartly bookmarked set. The eponymous open letter to our large-headed, leonine corporate ambassador is started and finished at either end of the show, written on a table circumnavigated by a model green steam train. Without spoiling the story, there's a pleasing real-world tangent to follow-up on too. The fast-moving, cerebral set is crammed with callbacks and character reprisals, and a fine array of impromptu audience banter completes his hand nicely – he leaves to noisy applause and a rousing cheer. After winning the So You Think You're Funny award in 2003, the Sheffield-born comic deserves to continue his ascent in the Fringe pantheon with this playful call to arms.