In praise of Daniel Kitson

I went to see the comedian, Daniel Kitson, at the National Theatre last night. His one-man show, It's Always Right Now, Until It's Later, has to be seen to be believed - but, as it has been solidly sold out for ages, you'll be extremely lucky to get hold of a ticket... in fact, all the performances in the 890-seater Lyttelton Theatre sold out within hours. Every seat cost just £12 and apparently, he pulled strings to ensure that his fans got in quick to book the tickets.

He ambled on to the stage last night, clutching a mug in one hand, and over the course of 90 minutes, he only drew breath when his stutter got the better of him. His delivery was extraordinary - and it was funny, thought-provoking and moving in equal measure - and it was a phenomenal feat of memory. The set comprised a black stage and a chair, small ladder and around 25 light bulbs, all of which signified a person at one particular stage in their life. At the end of the show, he thanked the audience for coming to see him and walked off. Cue much applause and a standing ovation from a few people in the front row.

He didn't come back on stage to take a bow, so the lights went up and the audience filed out. One of my friends, Gerard, saw the show a few days earlier and told me that he wouldn't come back on stage and that, give or take the odd add-lib, he had delivered exactly the same words when he'd seen the show.