What with a certain president’s behaviour in the spotlight, there’s a palpable appetite for the kind of American burlesquing which David Cross does so well. And as he casually wanders on stage, mimes carrying a gun into a restaurant while discussing his ‘freedoms’, and sings a Donald Trump speech as though it were a proud national anthem, he doesn’t disappoint. His timeless yet, in these risk-averse times, arguably unfashionable pitch-black humour might be the salve everyone needs in an era of wholly depressing political idiocy.

Soon, he’s transitioned comfortably from political hot takes to the familiar territory of methodically paced anecdotes, harvesting laughs from finely honed details and gradual descents in near-nihilistic viciousness and righteous liberalism. He’s an expert scene setter, weaving a thread of tiny nuances and situations that are both tightly crafted and delivered with a deceptive looseness. That same balance can be found in his political rhetoric, which weaves masterful stories about massages turned sour, and a holiday to Machu Picchu, with anxiety about abortion rights and the conservative mentality in contemporary America, all without ever approaching a soapbox. 

Anyone passingly familiar with Cross’ work will understand the tone at play here, how any brush with nihilism and potentially controversial subject will be leavened by the overwhelming sense that Cross has exactly the right targets in his crosshairs. From his impressions of crack babies in the 90s to his deadpan critiques of religion, he’s always revelled in bleakness. A lesser comic would let the state of the world overwhelm them, but for Cross this is a welcome case of business as usual. His casually horrifying rhythms and leftfield imaginative leaps remain a sledgehammer attack that will leave many queasy, and many more in peals of laughter. 

David Cross: The End Of The Beginning Of The End reviewed at Queen’s Hall, Edinburgh.