David Trent: Live at the Pleasance Courtyard

David Trent has an amazing body. It is bulbous, hairy, and goosefleshed. Not only is it probably quite cuddly, but it's his prime weapon in his war against the world, and one that he deploys liberally and effectively.

We get our first peek of it in his opening salvo; a technological takedown of Robin Thicke’s 'Blurred Lines' video. Armed with a digital projector, two screens and a laptop, he deconstructs the creepy lyrics and the leering imagery, getting shoutier with every tawdry image on screen and with every Newspeak justification from its performers.

And then, like a comedic exclamation mark, he superimposes himself dancing in the video, modesty protected only by some Y-fronts. In the face of a world awash with the objectification the female body, he is fighting quivering flesh with quivering flesh.

That is just one depressing aspect of contemporary life against which Trent unleashes his paunch and PowerPoint. Many more follow. It is this bellowing self-deprecation and sly use of video technology that saves his show from being a routine exercise in gunning down fish in barrels.

Yes, we know that the 'Blurred Lines' video is misogynistic, that former BNP leader Nick Griffin’s cookery video is unspeakably surreal and unintentionally hilarious, and that former education secretary Michael Gove’s take on the history of rap is as compelling as a car crash. But Trent’s endearing, righteous and frequently rather funny exasperation earns him the right to belly flop into the middle of this well-tilled ground.