Patrick Monahan - I Walked, I Danced, Iran

Patrick Monahan isn't one for an understated entrance. He dangles from the venue's balcony onto an audience member's shoulders, then takes a premature lap of honour before being deposited onto the stage. Panting from the exertion, he starts.

The inspiration for this enjoyable standup show stems from Monahan's multicultural heritage: half-Irish, half-Iranian, with a Teeside upbringing and accent. It's a slowish start as the comedian begins to explore his broad theme of origins, nationality and class. He takes an audience poll to find a few international visitors and returns to these unwitting volunteers consistently throughout the show – canvassing opinion, seeking approval or simply showing off his multilingual skills.

His material is quietly amusing rather than outrageously funny but his gentle demeanor and playful delivery go a long way towards carrying the weaker segments, particularly an overlong routine on geese which seems unrelated to the rest of the set. At points he is also too reliant on the audience to provide humour, breaking the flow of his material, although his dedicated fan-base seems only too happy to join in.

Monahan's preoccupation with class can be both irritating and irrational, using the word "posh" to describe everything from "matching jewellery" to feeding dogs ice cream and, most oddly, cheese and wine evenings (which a friendly heckler rightly shouts haven't been posh since the 1970s).

Despite these slight niggles there's no faulting the show's all-singing, all-dancing conclusion, which lifts the spirits, lightens the soul and has the power to turn cynics into believers.