Jay Richardson reviews Reginald D Hunter's 2010 Tour...

Confessing his current run of shows was booked to promote a DVD as yet unfilmed, Reginald D Hunter introduces this evening as "trying out some new stuff". That's only partly true however of a night that mixes workshopping, polished material and old routines. When he concludes with his now customary "I believe I've fulfilled my contractual obligations", there's perhaps more chutzpah involved than he's prepared to acknowledge.

Hunter has become a maddening comic in the last few years. The American retains an impressive capacity for making you see things from fresh perspectives, especially in terms of gender and race, his proficiency ostensibly stemming from his "tolerance for bullshit" not being "what it was". He admits he's always fighting a temptation to perceive people as stereotypes rather than individuals, a rare, ingratiating admission among comedians that helps him make his provocative points and ask awkward questions.

Why shouldn't he have a view on marriage, despite never experiencing the institution himself? And why wouldn't he cheat on his partner if he were David Beckham? He's constantly pushing buttons.

When his arguments are fully formed or his musings borne of genuinely pressing social enquiry, he's a mightily persuasive orator who knows when to undercut a serious point with a cutting, commonsense retort. Observing the British media's habit of targeting 'offensive' comics in the wake of Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross' prank phone call to Andrew Sachs, he reiterates that as comedians, the likes of Jimmy Carr, Frankie Boyle et al might just be joking when they espouse their 'horrific' opinions.

That prevailing uncertainty about the seriousness of jokes flags up Hunter's appeal in a nutshell, his having his cake and eating it. He convinces you of the validity of his worldview, then undermines it, the erstwhile actor in him keeping you off balance. There's a lulling gravitas to his delivery that draws you in, convincing you that something has completely changed his sense of self, before delivering a deliciously flippant punchline. At his most compelling, these two elements don't feel mutually exclusive. There's a similar discrepancy when he follows a satirical routine on news values with another on his childish delight in the phrase "bear with me".

Equally though, in a strung-together show like this, where routines seem to follow as they occur to him, and when he hasn't formed a satisfying conclusion, it feels like he's poking sensibilities for the sake of it, coasting on the strength of his sage-like reputation. Criticising Nelson Mandela is guaranteed to get everyone's attention. Yet by failing to elaborate on his vague accusations of the former South African president financially trading on goodwill, Hunters slurs Mandela's reputation without strong enough justification - cheap shock comedy that's frankly beneath him.

Elsewhere, he's simply lazy. Regardless of whether or not he was the first comic commenting on London adverts sensationalising the true cost of an illegal taxi, both he and others have made the observation commonplace in recent years. What frustrates is that he's capable of being more radical.

His thoughts on his start in stand-up and whether he was the beneficiary of affirmative action and better opportunities because he was black are brilliantly explored, raising tricky issues about the career trajectories of ethnic minority performers. In a better, more rigorously structured show, this should have been the finale.

Instead, he closes with what ought to be shooting fish in a barrel for anyone, let alone a social commentator of his standing - an extended commentary on Sex and the City 2's plot inanities, his conclusion, essentially, that this Hollywood fantasy doesn't reflect reality. Although it remains easy to admire Hunter's sense of mischief and desire to challenge, he's surely set his bar higher than this.

Pavilion Theatre, Glasgow, 10th November 2010