Our protagonist in this one-man show is, apparently, inspired by Joe Rogan and Marc Maron. And as podcast presenters go, you can see how he might fall between the two stools those men occupy. Talking of stools, they too play a starring role in this well-acted but largely incomprehensible drama set in a toilet. 

The central conceit here is that after many successful years, ‘America’s number one comedy podcast’ must come to a close. It’s 2037, a war is being waged and an inefficient president has offered up the life of our host as collateral damage. Quite why is unclear, as is the reason behind the host’s wife and children being taken hostage, and the decision to burn him (literally) as means of execution. Whether any of this is actually real, or if we’re dealing with ramblings of a mentally ill sixtysomething, is also up for grabs.

Emil Ferzola makes a fine fist of imbuing the host with humanity, even coming to tears at one point at the prospect of losing his family. He bounces from one anecdote to the next, some meaningful, some scatological, some just quietly confusing. Angry shouts off-stage, to a small ‘big brother’ style camera on the wall and into the ether might come packed with passion, but who he’s talking to is anyone’s guess. Good theatre should pose questions and provoke thought; but about the world around you, not what’s happening on stage. 

Paradise In The Vault, until 27 August, 9.45pm.