Jessie Cave is a self-professed pregnancy addict. Much of An Ecstatic Display is concerned with her motherly pursuits, as well as a seemingly endless cycle of break-ups and make-ups with her partner. Combining shadow puppetry, dancing and a dash of Shakespeare, this hour-long stand-up-cum-one-woman-show would, in the hands of a less charming performer, be more akin to an erratic display. Yet Cave’s warm eccentricity binds it together.

Many of the segments fall within the conceit of Cave and her children’s night-time routines, from bath fun to inappropriate bedtime stories. It’s the latter, when she pulls out a ludicrously large storybook and recounts a tale of when her heartbroken self got an ill-timed bikini wax, that provides the show’s best moment. A more cohesive whole would have been achieved had she stayed within the framework of recreating her family rituals.

Every time Cave stops to re-enact a therapy session between herself and a cushion embroidered with the likeness of her partner she gets closer to hitting comedic gold, but does so at the slight detriment of the show’s flow. But if you can embrace its occasionally manic pace, you'll find an effervescent, if occasionally uneven paean to love and motherhood.

Jessie Cave: An Ecstatic Display, Assembly Roxy, until 25 August, 12.45pm.