Olivia Phipps reviews Dylan Moran at The Anvil in Basingstoke...

A lone glass of red wine sits on a table on stage as the audience filter in to some light jazz: a familiar start to any Dylan Moran gig, as fans will know. Onto a large screen is projected a series of small drawings, cartoons and paintings created by the man himself - again, a familiar sight. The atmosphere is so relaxed it feels more like a jazz club than a comedy show.

When the Irish comedian enters the stage however - nearly 40, with dark clothes and tousled hair - a very warm reception is there to greet him. He quickly waves off the applause, anxious to begin the show, perhaps, or maybe embarrassed by his own popularity. Certainly, he is not without comedic success; in 1996 aged 24, he was the youngest person to win the Perrier Award at the Edinburgh Festival, while his Channel 4 sitcom Black Books won him two BAFTAs and was a hit with viewers and critics alike. From the beginning, though, it is obvious that Moran is not here to be showered with praise.

Recurring themes in his stand-up return once again, primarily children and the effects of middle age. These are welcomed with open arms by the audience; they may not be ambitious topics for comedy but he definitely puts his own stamp on them. Surprisingly perhaps for Moran, he discusses current affairs and politicians, even asking if anyone had been to see Question Time, which had been recorded in the same venue only the day before. Just as it looked as though Moran was really taking an interest in the modern world, he confessed that he hadn't actually seen the recording yet. This came as a relief for me personally, as the beauty of Moran's work to me has always been his step out of reality, the modern world and the media, and focus instead on his own perception of real people and relationships.

Returning after the interval, Dylan appears holding a large chocolate cake and explains to us that someone in the audience had made it and gave it to him during the break - a reference, no doubt, from a previous show, in which Moran claims that cake is the language of love. After having a slice himself, he cuts the remaining cake into small pieces and rather endearingly proceeds to hand it round the audience. He appears to be in good spirits throughout the show and is quick to reply to any rogue hecklers who dare to disturb the ambience. One slightly drunken gentleman jokingly complains that the cake is too dry, to which Moran turns to the rest of the audience saying 'Yes, it does take all sorts...but does it have to?' - A sharp putdown which earns him yet another round of applause.

Unfortunately, the show is rather short. Though Moran very rarely nears the two hour mark with his stand-up, perhaps the fact that he no longer has a cigarette with his glass of wine on stage has affected him. Another half hour or so would have made the evening, but even with a shorter show he won roaring cheers and applause from an appreciative audience.

Fans of his previous work will not be disappointed - another rambling night of delight from Dylan Moran.