With a rough-hewn, rascally sense of mischief, Connor Burns isn’t yet the most distinctive or original writer. But he’s a stand-up who has an easy way with a crowd, with obvious underdog appeal and upstart ambition. The Edinburgh resident evokes a world on a par with his own low sense of self-esteem, of defeated Millennials and Gen Zers, of the deluded vaccination sceptics in his family and on the council estate he grew up on.

^{Picture: Trudy Stade}

Within that context, he places himself in contrast to his more intelligent, better-looking American girlfriend, the idea that he’s punching above his weight infinitely preferable to the alternative he points out, with difficult to dispute logic. Although the disparity in their backgrounds is less marked than it initially appears, she also serves as a jumping off point for Burns’ views on America’s relationship with guns and abortion, hot-button yet familiar stand-up topics that he nevertheless acquits himself reasonably well with.

On other hackneyed subjects, such as middle-aged men letting it all hang out at the gym or the pointlessness of recycling when industrial pollution makes your efforts a drop in the heating ocean, he’s got less of interest to say. But he always sells the material well.

Reviewed at Just The Tonic Nucleus as part of Edinburgh Fringe.