Tom Stade: What Year Was That?

Tom Stade does the drunk, stupid and well-meaning Canadian stoner schtick very well. So well, in fact, that for the first 15 minutes it's possible to take his opening diatribe on the hells of marriage at face value – ignoring his casual mention of having been married for 16 years.

Stade knows exactly what he's doing. He is the naive, sparkly-eyed idiot, holding two beer glasses and believing sending toys will help save Africa. Every time a routine pushes too far, provoking a slap-your-hand-over-your-mouth reaction, it's tempered by sharp, throwaway lines highlighting his actual intentions, making the whole thing pretty bloody funny. Occasionally he laughs and apologises. Sometimes he is more explicit, at one point going as far as to let the audience know it's not real.

Though littered with racism and the odd splash of wife-beating sexism, this is not an offensive show. He sidesteps such issues with cleverly constructed, astutely observed jokes acting as social commentary. Most of his material stems from fabricated tales of his travels with an old, equally fabricated friend—a clever device that doesn't tire—and he is, without a doubt, a gifted and highly enjoyable storyteller. That said, there are some moments in which he oversteps the mark where, despite his charm and likeability, it's not fully justified. These instances are, thankfully, few and far between and do not detract from what is, essentially, a lot of fun.