Harry Stachini is perhaps the most likeable and friendly comic I’ve seen open at the Fringe. I had never seen him before but he warmly welcomes the audience and fires off six or seven light jokes before even getting into his material. Remembering people who came to previous gigs and thanking them.

He’s a consummate professional stand-up — the kind of act you think you’ll see everywhere in your first year at the Fringe, before realising it takes decades to hone this level of skill.

His storytelling is zingingly fast, with one-liners peppered throughout. He’s honest, interesting, kind, and affable, while never letting 30 seconds pass without making us laugh — hard. What holds Lobster back from being a five-star show is that it’s still a work-in-progress. It’s called Lobster, but there’s only a light thread of the theme pushing through towards the end.

His crowd work is hilarious and deeply inclusive. So few comedians can do truly great crowd work, and watching Stachini handle it is watching someone masterful draw everyone in. He doesn’t need a joke for every audience comment — although more often than not he has a damn funny one liner— and it’s the fact he catches every moment naturally, including us all in the show, that makes it sing.

This is British comedy at its best. While it is hilarious, Stachini’s next job is to figure out how to make the roughest areas of Manchester accessible to a much wider audience without exposition.

After the show, I spotted him in the lobby, sheets of paper in front of him, writing notes for improvement. He has the skill, comedic chops, and dedication to reach the levels of Michael McIntyre, Peter Kay, or Jason Manford — and I expect him to catch those guys up soon enough, perhaps go beyond.

The bunch of comedians bursting into the room at the end of his show to sing happy birthday is testament to how well-liked he is.

Just damn funny funny stories with non-stop jokes from a very relatable, likeable comedian.

****1/2

Reviewed by Sharpie

Hoots @ The Apex

17.00 (1hr)

Until 17 Aug