‘Your face doesn’t look British’. That’s the opener: a slur from a member of the public, met by a furious Ria Lina. The verbal obliteration he receives has the crowd in pieces. Lina kicks off with fast, funny, forensic takes on race, gender and the baffling things strangers think it’s fine to say out loud. As a mother of three teenagers, she’s used to feisty debates; yet she’s gentle with the audience, interacting in a pally way, even darting around before the show begins to make sure everyone’s comfortable.

Once she gets going (and it takes a minute), the gags are high drama, her sitcom-mum charm giving way to sharper edges. Suddenly we’re on climate change, Greta Thunberg (whose parents apparently mistook gentle parenting for total surrender), Lina’s own military-style methods, and divorce from a man 20 years her senior. 

Lina explains that she’s currently cohabiting with her ex (‘why waste all that domestic training?’) but the romance has clearly died; the man is introduced as a kung-fu master with a six-pack and ends up like a geriatric robot vacuum cleaner, hobbling around, cleaning up her mess. From start to finish, Lina’s feminist rage is gloriously undiluted. She may be in the throes of a peri-menopausal dog fight with her hormones, but her routine is sharp, her monologues well-rehearsed. She mocks helicopter parenting, but it’s clear that Ria Lina does her homework. 

Ria Lina: Riabellion, Monkey Barrel Cabaret Voltaire, until 24 August, 2.25pm; main picture: Steve Ullathorne.