Reginald D. Hunter: Bitchproof

When Reginald D. Hunter releases a DVD recording of Bitchproof, its scene selection menu will read as follows: 1. Old show titles, presented as fresh material; 2. Not all black people are the same; 3. A punchline that could be construed as transphobic; 4. Weak, aimless crowd work; 5. Human faecal matter smells unsatisfactory; 6. Why literally all women dislike Gwyneth Paltrow; 7. A child's rape fantasy; 8. The house lights come up ahead of time despite the show's late start and steep ticket price; 9. The audience focuses on the positives.

Performing in the cavernous Pleasance Grand is a daunting prospect for any artist. Even if their show's been worked out to make the most of the venue's space, large crowds carry a weight of expectation. If the room isn't behind an act, it's hard to ignore its collective disappointment or apathy.

To his credit, Hunter doesn't seem to care about any of this. He's a seasoned veteran and comfortable, authoritative presence. It's this natural command of the stage that enables the comedian to slip into autopilot, either regurgitating previously explored themes with less bite and nuance than before, or offering reactionary insight to the human condition.

“Don't steal pussy,” he warns us, the twinkle gone from his eye. The faithful laugh in all the right places, but do so restlessly, in the vain hope their hero will suddenly start making an effort.