‘Murmuration’ (Mint Studio in Greenside @ George Square, until AUG 16 – not AUG 10)

“A subtle and nuanced show; more storytelling than stand-up.”

The comedian Steve Vertigo’s posters and flyers for this show promise “A sharp avian romp starring AI, me and 38,000 starlings”. Maybe my imagination flew off on a flight of fancy in response to this, but the technological wizardry that this implied to me did not materialise. Vertigo’s one-man show consists of a comic monologue delivered by the man himself, flapping his arms whilst dressed in a suggestion of avian costume. No distractions are offered in the small, setless black-box Mint Studio in Greenside @ George Street.

Vertigo is one of those comics who come from a long and honourable northern tradition of slightly lugubrious characters with a deadpan style of delivery. But there is more to this lanky, cloth-capped humourist than meets the eye. A former Rave DJ and Computer Games Design teacher, he is described in his own publicity as a “gangly idiot” known for his “daft and surreal story-telling…Jackanory on drugs”.

There is some engaging observational humour on the subject of technology at the beginning of the show, as Vertigo riffs on the way in which very expensive modern gadgetry – fitbits, Apple watches, Alexa – manipulate our lives rather than serve us. There were ripples of knowing laughter as he told a story (which sounded all too true) about how his doorbell camera once locked him out of his own house when he couldn’t answer the security questions.

Whilst his act could not honestly be described as laugh-out-loud funny, there is a gently quirky and offbeat humour at work here: just as one might encounter when accidentally wandering into some forgotten backstreet pub in an industrial town and finding yourself standing at the bar, being engaged in conversation by the local eccentric.

As the show’s title suggests, Vertigo has a fascination for the swirling clouds of thousands of birds that sometimes swarm in the skies above towns where large numbers of starlings roost. Engaged and spoken to by one of these avian acrobats, Vertigo heads cloudward to give a surreal birds-eye view of the left-field side of life.

This is a subtle and nuanced show; more storytelling than stand-up. But for those who like their comedy understated and ethereal, it is an agreeable enough way to spend 50 minutes in mid-afternoon, rather like listening to a live recording for Radio 4.