While Reg D Hunter remains one of the most compelling presences on the UK comedy stage, it appears that he has become afflicted with Wil Hodgson syndrome. Like the pink-haired Care Bear-lovin’ former communist and wrester from Chippenham, Hunter was a breath of fresh air when he first arrived on the circuit. Now a few years down the line and both comics seem trapped by the material and public image which initially helped make them stand out. In contemporary bullshit parlance, their USP is no longer quite so U.

It’s not just that Hunter is not able (or not bothered) to give us a Fringe title that doesn’t have the word ‘nigga’ in it; but he tackles that in this show and that’s all fair enough. What’s less amusing is that the content of this hour, Trophy Nigga, could have been performed by him at any time in the last five or six years. There’s the stories about his crazy family back home in Georgia, his strongheld belief that women are a bit goofy, and hey, don’t you Brits do sarcasm well? Still, a simulacrum of old Reg is better than the majority of new Fringe comics by some long way.

Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug (not 17), 8pm, £14–£16 (£12–£14).