@ The Stand, Edinburgh, on Sun 10 Jan 2016

A full week after the tragic demise of the festive period it was time to stop sobbing and at least get on speaking terms with normality again. What better to assist in this than kicking off the comedy trail for 2016 with the first of what is sure to be many visits to The Stand?

Compere Bruce Devlin does his best to get the energy levels raised among the crowd. He has a confrontational style, particularly with the female members of the audience, which would sink into unconscionable misogyny were it not for him being openly gay. Liberal eyebrows may be raised, but one senses he’s gleefully pushing those buttons. He’s also a very quick-witted, able host.

Robbie Ormrod is next up, and says he doesn’t want to be defined by his somewhat diminutive stature. Sadly, that’s the most memorable thing about him on this occasion, as his random, tangential style doesn’t get too much of a chance to develop into coherence with such a short slot.

Another victim of a fun-size slot is Sian Robertson Davies. A slightly hesitant approach belies the level of sophistication she’s attempting. She claims that she’s legally unable to finish her jokes with punchlines as she’s sold them to someone earlier in a pub. This asks for real engagement from the audience and it’s a shame her routine doesn’t have the time to develop. As it is, she raises smiles of appreciation rather than genuine chuckles.

Genial Glaswegian Gary Faulds is a new face on the circuit, and he makes the most of his ten minutes with a routine he’s obviously honed through performing in a lot of these slots. Some of his subjects, such as a self-deprecating comment about his weight, are not reinventing the wheel, but a tangent in which he considers how his faith influences his comedy is an interesting avenue that could be expanded and explored further.

Eleanor Morton’s show, Allotted Mucking Around Time was one of the highlights of last year’s Fringe and it is lovely to be treated to a small snippet from it, and be reminded just how good she is. For a comedian who bases much of her show on her social awkwardness, she is instantly charming and eccentric. Hopefully she will be back with a new show at this year’s Festival, but for now this was a perfectly acceptable aperitif.

Rounding off the evening is Andy Fury, who risks ending the evening on a melancholy note by basing virtually his entire slot on reflections on his recent travails of the heart. Fortunately, his material on his new-found singlehood is satisfyingly funny and crude; and his observations on relationships in general are astute and often have a few heads nodding in recognition. If ever there is a seam of comedy that will always have potential gold to be mined, it’s the human heart and all its insanity.

Overall, The Sunday Night Laugh-In is a perfectly fine way of rounding off a weekend, with a generally high standard on show. It certainly whets the appetite for the coming year.