The mannered braggadocio of Alex Turner is quite difficult to channel, as it turns out. Bedecked in a Temu equivalent of Turner’s Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino garb, Tom Rosenthal wanders onstage with the tantalising premise that his career (two hit shows and a stand-up set that he fears will alienate his fan base) is broadly similar to the trajectory of  Sheffield’s greatest export (two great albums and a 20-year period of confusing meat-and-two-veg indie fans).

From there, the star of Friday Night Dinner and Plebs (who’s more than happy for fans to bellow catchphrases at him in the opening) launches into a curiously sedate examination of Turner’s chameleonic personality, before segueing into debates about his Jewishness, a recent autism diagnosis and his status as a minor-league nepo baby (his dad is the sports commentator Jim Rosenthal).

Within this grab-bag (which is held together by the Arctic Monkeys premise in the way that a doorstop novel can be firmly bound by a single staple) are thoughtful jokes and a clear desire to subvert the expectations of people who want to shout ‘shalom!’ at him on the street. Yet the rhythm of almost every routine feels uncertain, proving he has Turner’s clothes but little of his flair.

Tom Rosenthal: Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I Am, Assembly Roxy, until 24 August, 6.15pm.