Michael McIntyre

PLEASANCE COURTYARD (VENUE 33)

A WORK of art that can bring tears to the eyes of a twentysomething, Heat-subscribing girlie, seventy-something, self-made manufacturing mogul, and a fortysomething media cynic is seen as a masterpiece and endlessly analysed for the secret of its universality.

Michael McIntyre achieved exactly that when I saw his new show - tears of laughter - and it astounds and infuriates me that he seems to be regarded as too "mainstream" to be worthy of discussion. Pure stand-up is increasingly rare these days; it is to most of what is in the Fringe brochure what classic close-up magic is to Penn and Teller.

Don't get me wrong, I am a huge fan of Penn and Teller, as I am of many of the comics up here, but, for most, there is a theme, a concept that acts as a delivery system for the comedy. They give comedy something to 'do' to show it off. McIntyre is his own, only delivery system. His comedy doesn't really 'do' anything, except make you laugh till your face hurts. I may have got this hopelessly wrong, but isn't that what comedy, at its best, is supposed to do?

McIntyre must be one of the least-quoted comedians around, because after an hour with this bouncy little man, who looks oddly like one of those precocious child actors from Hollywood in the 1950s, you don't really remember the material, you simply remember the laughing.

He creates laughs out of nothing and out of everything, and makes new laughs out of old topics.

Until 27 August. Today 9pm