Tim Key repeatedly told the audience that he was a ‘film star,’ and they should consider themselves lucky to catch one in such an intimate venue.

Such comments illustrated perfectly the tone he carried on (and off) stage – part self-effacing, part over-confident, but always watchable.

Very loosely based around short poems – with Key billing himself as a poet – the near two-hour show took for its concept the bed. Onstage, his home bed was set up, and (female) audience members were invited to experience firsthand his bizarre attempts at flirting.

But the show was far from slapstick – often tales had no conclusions, or were surreally drawn to a close with a conceptual dance, a wink, or a one liner that left the sell out crowd gasping.

There were slight lulls, as you’d expect from a show of this length, but the periods of the most intense hilarity - such as a skit when Jimmy Savile’s house appeared on Through The Keyhole, so wrong it was right - more than compensated.

Key is really a craftsman on the live stage, and the silver screen’s gain is that medium’s loss.