The Stand, Glasgow BETH PEARSON Simon Munnery's gaffer-taped glasses see-saw when he pushes them up the pivot that is the bridge of his nose. This minor spectacle not only offers respite from his floral shirt, but somehow confirms that he is an authentic comedian. Seventeen appearances at the Edinburgh Fringe notwithstanding.

Conventional stand-up, however, is not his forte. He makes this point himself by unenthusiastically asking: "Is anyone from anywhere?" Half an hour of mildly amusing anecdotal material follows, with sharp perceptions and ideas occasionally shocking the subdued audience into laughter. His Venn diagram of a Venn diagram is one.

Munnery's flaw when doing stand-up as himself seems to be that he just doesn't find his subject interesting enough. His characters, however, are highly-developed and transform him into a tightly-honed, gag-spitting machine. We meet a new one tonight: Dr Professor Morris Chutney, who will deliver a lecture on women's studies. He is, of course, misogynist; full of Freudian slips and fancy masquerading as research. Without bras, big-breasted women would have died out due to "toppling". He also overturns commonly-held assumptions: "a woman's work is never done . . . properly".

Alan Parker: Urban Warrior is revived and thriving. When a mobile phone rings, he shouts: "You've tagged yourself, comrade!" with the quick-wit and conviction Munnery can't quite muster as himself. Yet there is a place for his bumbling, conversational style and it is in providing the voices for two men drawn on to crucifixes on a bit of cardboard. There is an unoccupied crucifix between them, as this is "a well-known scene after the main character has left". When someone in the audience says she's Catholic and won't laugh, he points out: "but Jesus isn't there . . . and you're laughing". Everyone does.