Bad news: there’s been an apocalypse, of the old-fashioned nuclear kind. For a reason never explained, one man has survived. His physical wants appear to be met; his emotional needs, less so. And so he does what any self-respecting modern man would do when he has something to say, and nobody available to listen to it… he launches an internet livestream.

End Of The World FM is billed as absurdist – and it’s right about that – but here, the purposelessness and nihilism which define the genre at least have a logical cause. The man knows that there’s nobody left alive to hear him, yet he caresses the microphone as though it’s his best friend. He interviews himself, changes up the format, drops in some “breaking news”. But all the while, the madness is building: Kevin Martin Murphy’s performance grows more hyper, more toothily intense, ever wilder-eyed.

This is often very funny. Murphy has a deft touch in parody, from his smooth send-up of trite religious programming to his cynical re-invention of an all-too-familiar podcast ad. Some of his jokes are up-to-the-minute nods at current concerns, while others are philosophical and literary. His performance is energetic and expansive, and occasionally it’s beautiful too: a study on the theme of love is genuinely moving, even though it’s played for laughs through the medium of shadow puppetry.

But the truth of the man’s situation is never far away, and among the ramblings, we learn a little of his back-story too. The cheery facade we first encounter masks a deep self-hatred – not just survivor’s guilt, but a more profound sense of shame. He doubts whether he loved enough, cared enough, communicated enough when he had the time. Just as Murphy can raise a laugh, so he can conjure an intensely focussed silence, and some production tricks – like the annoying, buzzing dial-tone that underscores one particular monologue – raise the intensity too.

Does this end-times story itself have an ending? Well, yes, I think so – though I did start to lose the thread as the mania intensified, and may have latched onto a resolution that wasn’t really there. But there’s no mistaking the most vital message: that people don’t live forever. Say what you want to before it’s too late, argues Murphy – and don’t let fear stop you. Which is surely a lesson that deserves to be broadcast to the world?