Various folk wander across the performance space at the Cavern – but none of them is Rhian Wood-Hill. Not sure if it’s a set-up: after all, his show is called I’m Gonna Be…

Ah, he’s here. Wood-Hill enters through the audience, casually dressed complete with a cap that’s back-to-front.

He begins with a brag – his excuse being that his father was one. We’re provided with a list of bragging rules and prepare for an hour of examples of the art. We don’t quite get that, but what we do get is a racy – both speedy and spicy – description of encounters and exploits from a very likeable performer whose enjoyment of life is tangible.

The greatest challenge of stand-up is to sustain an hour without drifting off course into something of a ramble. After the first half hour – in which we hear how Wood-Hill was accidentally racist, he’s promoted some fellow comedians, and told us about some imaginative dates arranged to impress potential girlfriends – I’m beginning to get a hint of a ramble.

There’s a Tinder date, though, to alert me. It doesn’t work out well – no bragging here. The older folk (like me) in the row in front particularly relish things like bad Tinder dates (hearing about them, not having them). 

His last five minutes give him the opportunity to display his tattoos and tell us why one of them is lying.

I’m Gonna Be… is a title suggestive of hopes for the future. At 25, Wood-Hill has plenty of time to gather life information for another show – with or without bragging.  

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