Not so much stand-up as sit-down comedy, John Moloney relied mainly on the power of his carefully constructed observational routines to win over his Pavilion Theatre audience.

His opening remarks were almost like a confessional – admitting his early days as a musical comedian augmented with an accordian, before he adopted his current deadpan routine.

Music’s loss is comedy’s gain, though, as he displayed a wicked turn of phrase and seemingly effortless runs of gags in routines about his stressed cat, his time as a German teacher and the game of darts.

In terms of his subject matter there was nothing earth-shatteringly new – pets, families and the battle of the sexes were all given a good going-over.

It was his takes on the tried and tested which stood out – commenting on his weight, he pointed out he used to weigh 7lb 3oz, while a game of darts should really be based around trying to hit double one from the start.

The craft which had gone into the routines also stood out – as he turned a battle between rival hen-nights into a debate about philosophy, and compared the beauty of the romantic languages with the cold functionality of German.

His failing might be that in this world of novelty props, fast-paced routines and youthful exuberance his more cerebral and less visual take on comedy might be ignored in favour of more flamboyant routines – but for those who love tight, carefully structured writing, this was a masterclass.