Eddie Izzard, De La Warr Pavilion, Bexhill

The experience probably sends them spinning back to a time of Christmas party pieces in front of plastered aunts, leering uncles, hyperactive cousins and comatose grandparents.

Quite often our nearest and dearest can also be our harshest and bluntest critics.

So it's no surprise that, despite a stand-up comedy career which has seen him selling out vast arenas and shipping trolley-loads of DVDs, Eddie Izzard seemed as nervous as an incontinent schoolchild splashing down a log flume on his return to Bexhill.

The self-confessed Straight Action Transvestite was brought up in the town affectionately known as "God's waiting room" and returned to play a weekend of dates to contribute to the multi-million pound restoration of the De La Warr Pavilion.

Izzard was ever-so-slightly shaky at first. Perhaps it would have helped if he'd brought his full wardrobe to the South Coast with him but he instead opted for the "cool dad" look.

Clad in plain, blue jeans, boots, black shirt and jacket, Izzard fidgeted his way through the opening few minutes and sometimes seemed to struggle for inspiration.

Fortunately, he had his home town crowd on his side and they were able to laugh warmly at jokes about life as a transvestite, even though the bloke on stage clearly wasn't.

From then on Izzard got better and better. He hasn't done stand-up for a few years, spending his time on an enthusiastic if unfortunate movie career which has produced more duds than a French fireworks factory.

Izzard has never relied on gags or mugging to generate laughs and is just as much a physical comedian as he is a cerebral one.

So even though there wasn't very much original material, new riffs on big hits like stealing make-up as a teenager and the Star Trek phasers set to "sudden interest in botany", were still frequently hilarious.

Other funny moments included a wicked impression of a horse whisperer and the world's most cat-like dog.

By the end, Bexhill was gutted to see its favourite son go.