After being described as having a ‘typical lack of sentimentality’ by a well-known critic (no, not Copstick, the other one) in a review last year, Milo Edwards is out to correct that perception. As his 2022 ‘Voicemail’ dealt with the very recent loss of both parents to cancer, Edwards felt that the disapproving tone of the review implied that he wasn’t grieving in the ‘correct’ way. ‘Sentimental’ serves both as a rebuff to that accusation, and as a continuation of, and coda to, las year’s show. It also just happens to be one of the best hours so far this year.

A year further on, and Milo’s had some time to process his new status as an orphan – as he technically is – and what that means (a foot on the property ladder for one thing). He also introduces his 95-year-old Grandmother Peg, who also claims that epithet and who is a recurring figure in the show. His approach to his bereavement and his remaining family does give the impression of a slightly supercilious character, so you can kind of understand why his previous show was misinterpreted. He also has a deliberately verbose style, delivered in staccato burst of snark that only slightly lifts after the evisceration of his critical nemesis. But, as Edwards illustrates in a number of hilarious routines, people respond in different ways to death, and you don’t need to howl and rend your flesh like a Greek widow to be sentimental.

For a show that centres heavily around death, ‘Sentimental’ is arguably the most joke-dense hour you’ll see. There’s rarely longer than 15 seconds between another world-class laugh landing with deadly precision. Even many of Edwards’s more throwaway asides are great. On this level the show is as bulletproof as the indomitable Peg, who apparently, ‘hasn’t eaten anything solid for 10 years,’ and who is now been banned from hospital by the staff as her, ‘Blood is now just dust, there’s nothing we can do!’.

From the subject of his parents, Milo branches out into the wider world and his observations are as merciless. ‘Why don’t we all just wake up screaming?’ he despairs at the state of the world. Wearing his considerable intelligence lightly, he establishes that humanity functions on what he calls the ‘bin equilibrium’, that boils down the complex societal web of interactions of Rousseau‘s Social Contract down to things being fine if the bins get taken out on time. Yet it’s the material on his parents that stay in the mind. In the way Milo approaches the loss of loved ones it echoes that of Daniel Sloss on his late sister in ‘Dark’. It’s some of the toughest subject matter dealt with in an incredibly skillful, life-affirming, and uplifting way. A way in which many who have gone through the same will find chimes with their own experiences.

Many acts are talented enough to provoke tears of sadness and tears of joy. It’s a very special one that can make them indistinguishable. Don’t take Edwards’ delivery and his loquaciousness as detachment. He may take a circuitous route to the emotional core of his show, but the pictures he paints of his late parents are both moving and celebratory. And if there’s a more unashamedly ‘sentimental’ finale to a show this year, we haven’t seen it. Near perfect.

‘Sentimental’ runs until Sun 27 Aug 2023 at Monkey Barrel – The Tron at 12:10