It may be this 23-year-old’s debut solo Fringe show, but Leo Reich has managed to craft a jam-packed hour full of high-octane stand-up, interspersed with songs and sketches, that dig deep into the psyches of Gen Z-ers. What’s it about? This question could be answered with the title of the show itself, as Reich dances around the idea of creating something meaningful and ideologically driven that puts all of his minority statuses on the line, building himself into the perfect 21st-century victim.

From high-school bullies to first long-term relationship woes, a lot of introductory ground is covered, but the young comic’s firm grasp on satire and commitment to his on-stage persona make clichéd stories feel fresh and surprising. Reich’s signature joke equation starts with an earnest thought (‘I want any queer people in the audience to know that when you’re queer, that’s totally normal’) until the punchline (‘but when I’m queer, that’s special. Do we see the difference?’) marks an arrogance that should be insufferable; instead it has the (admittedly young-skewing) room in stitches.

^{Pictures: Raphael Neal}

Although overly intellectualising Literally Who Cares?! would be to miss the point completely, Reich manages to walk the tightrope of criticising certain sensitivities and self-obsessions associated with his generation without ever stumbling into stale woke-bashing arguments. His sporadic breaks to read from a (clearly prematurely written) memoir, which later develops into a fictionalised version of a memoir, and later still a screen adaptation of the fictionalised version of the memoir, shows an innate self-awareness that elevates the show from a series of Gen Z buzzwords to thought-provoking social commentary, with Reich as the protagonist in every cautionary tale. ‘The other day I read a really terrifying two-thirds of a headline,’ he says, before admitting he wants to be an activist, he’s just ‘not sure what for’.

Reich’s lack of pandering to the audience gives him authority and control. He barely stops to take a breath, never mind explain terms like echo chamber, top and bottoming, and The Bechdel Test to anyone unfamiliar with these concepts. Instead, he raises the bar and asks us to meet him there, using techniques clearly inspired by comedians like Catherine Cohen and Rose Matafeo (one of his songs is about sleeping with people who hate you and he ends with an up-tempo dance routine). However, this impressive debut hour sufficiently sets him apart from his contemporaries and makes him a comic to watch. 

Pleasance Courtyard Baby Grand, until 28 August, 9.35pm; Extra show, 27 August, 7pm.