Jack's grumpy giggles

Judging by his own stage show it would be quicker to list the minutiae of modern life that he doesn't whinge about. You name it, Jack blames it. Fortunately, his sustained ranting is jaw-achingly funny.

Initial targets were hardly lacerating - Michael Jackson came under compulsory fire, while Charles Kennedy would have got Dee's vote if only he could have understood his accent - yet after a gentle start, the smart-suited standup hit a groove, effortlessly putting a polished boot into everything from phones with attitude problems to Kendal Mint Cake via superstore jobsworths.

If there was a drawback it's the comedy equivalent of the band whose first album is about life on the streets and whose second is about life from a limo window. Minor irritations were prompted by his petty touring travails, but he was still passably pungent as he wondered why hotel showers are barely a dribble or so powerful "it feels like the riot police have come into your bathroom".

He was best when he got closer to home, in every sense. An extended routine on heavy drinking had added kick coming from this selfconfessed alcoholic. A memorable riff explored the difficulties of sneaking drunkenly upstairs to bed, taking creaky steps on the "keyboard of betrayal". The tartest gripes are the ones that ring truest rather than the ones that seem written by the yard.

Dee impressively employs more physicality and sound effects than ever, though remains too deadpan for a showboating finale. Instead he read out texts he had invited fans to send during the interval. Ironically some crass one-liners landed some of the loudest laughs, but no one was complaining. For once, not even Dee.

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