WitTank

Name one member of The Doors. How about Talking Heads? The Police? If you answered anything other than Jim Morrison, David Byrne and Sting, you’re just showing off.

One big personality is all it takes to make a band stick in the mind and, by the same logic, sketch group WitTank boast an invaluable asset in the rather unforgettable shape of Naz Osmanoglu.

At the risk of releasing the green-eyed monster amid this tight-knit trio, it’s clear they would be nowhere near as memorable without the self-styled Turkish prince. He is seemingly built for comedy: jug-eared, with a full beard on a boyish face and his mouth forever twisting into bizarre sneers and smirks. 

The sketches in which Osmanoglu is let off the leash are without doubt the strongest in this hour of big, dumb fun. He bellows, mumbles and mugs with great gusto as the doddery kleptomaniac bishop, the delusional magician and the meat-obsessed, sexually menacing headmaster.

But while there’s no denying that Osmanoglu steals the show, it is no disservice to his co-stars. Mark Cooper-Jones lends a dose of cool to the proceedings while the slightly effeminate Kieran Boyd provides a gentler counterpoint to the others’ boisterous horseplay.

WitTank are not without their weaknesses: a wacky opening sketch; the clueless scuba instructor who doesn’t merit a second appearance; the occasional petering out of a half-formed idea.

But these are minor gripes, and all is forgiven when a surreal and sinister take on a simple sugar rush provides a last-minute highlight, ensuring WitTank go out to boy-band adulation.