Brett Goldstein: Contains Scenes of an Adult Nature

A vivid, cinematic anecdote forms the centrepiece of this finely crafted hour. Brett Goldstein emerges from it perfectly poised to reflect upon how pornography warps our notions of sex. To some, the story might seem too convenient, but the points it illustrates are nonetheless timely and expressed with conviction and wit.

The influences of online porn might be furrowing brows in Westminster right now, but if you ask Goldstein, warts-and-all standup is a better fit for the debate. His opening field notes on a world deluded by unrealistic sexual imagery come from a man torn between intellect and instinct – a confessed blue-movie aficionado with an academic grounding in feminism. This allows for some winning self-irony, and he is charmingly apologetic when, for example, reliving his regret over apeing what he'd seen on screen. 

Then there's the story. It's ten years ago and Goldstein is at a New York acting school, struggling to get into the spirit of promiscuity. Circumstances—a power cut in post-9/11 Manhattan—and the ideal supporting cast (animalistic ladykiller, sultry Lolita and lesbian 'ethical slut') conspire to put his all-brain-and-no-balls Englishman persona to the test.

Irrespective of whether poetic licence is at work, the tale is an entertaining backdrop for the messages at hand. We've forgotten what good sex is. The next generation is doomed. And though we can't turn the tide of porn, the problem is that it's denuded sex of all context. So here is a show that, instead of some mawkish lament for intimacy, successfully puts sex firmly, funnily back in touch with actual human experience.