Though Simon Munnery’s publicity material shows him to be a familiar figure on BBC radio and television, I confess that his somewhat memorable name (“Get thee to a munnery!”) was until last month utterly unknown to me. This should not be a surprise, I guess, since I was unaware of the existence of Peter Kay, until learning in this week’s Sunday Times that he’s the highest-paid earner in stand-up comedy.

But Stewart Lee and Peter Cook are comedians I have heard of. And since Lee has called Munnery “the Peter Cook of his generation”, this seemed commendation enough to send me — with confidence of a likely good time — to his Saturday night show at the North Wall (after a colleague had jacked at the last minute).

Confidence was not misplaced. As one of a near full house who’d turned out on a blisteringly cold night in the hope of warmth and good cheer, I found his 90-minute performance supplied precisely that.

The Cook-like nature of Munnery’s show could be savoured in various ways. First, there was the gleeful irreverence of such sketches as the evening’s highlight — a hilarious discussion between the two criminals crucified on either side of Christ, who were presented as cartoon figures with mouths operated at high speed by Munnery.

Then there was the joy in practical jokes revealed in the story — it could have been true — of how he had bought his newsagent’s entire supply of the hated Daily Mail to deprive its fans of their daily fix. The result was anger and irritation. Just as if they’d read it. So he’d saved them money.

And as for sheer off-the-wall silliness, how about his one-man ‘musical’ about the doomed R101 airship, inspired by the proximity of his native Bedford (lots of jokes about that insalubrious place) to its base at Cardington?

A welcome interlude midway through the evening came from droll and witty poetry delivered in amusingly deadpan style by Oxford’s own George Chopping.