Bridget Christie joked during her set she only took up feminism recently as a means to boost her career.

From the energy, sincerity and passion that she brought to her performance we know this is a joke. I’s clear in fact, as she says herself, that feminism and equality drives her relentlessly on and off stage.

It’s this passion that brought great rhythm and momentum to the best sections of the show, especially during hilarious opening flights of fancy on the funeral of sexist pig Sir Stirling Moss and how a lack of feminine pens held back the Bronte sisters.

At her heights, Christie combined deft wordplay and imagery to skewer the dumbed-down world of advertising that allows women to exist in just two states: orgasmic over air freshners or “laughing at salads”.

But it’s this sincere passion that can also be her undoing as often the set veers off from the comic to the worthy as she explores subjects she is clearly passionate and informed about but hasn’t found a way to hone into comedy.

Of course making female genital mutilation funny is both almost impossible and probably undesirable, so Christie probably needs to question whether comedy is the platform to explore this particular issue.

Comedy can address worthy issues as Christie proves in patches tonight but overall this show could do with a little less ideological punch and a few more punchlines.