Tom Stourton and Tom Palmer, the high-energy duo who comprise the sketch group Totally Tom, claim that their union was born from ‘one hilarious mix up during a class roll-call’, in which they discovered that they shared the same name. This is the kind of ‘hilarity’ that dogged their hour-long sketch show: self-satisfied to the point of pretension, and ultimately not as funny as it believes itself to be. What saved the show from tedium is the slick polish slathered onto the script by the two performers.

The hour was filled with ten sketches, each more madcap than the last. There was an upward curve in quality; the first sketch – a skit about a suicidal banker during the recession – was too try-hard, grasping at that feeble straw of the up-and-coming comedian: ‘topical’. Sharp delivery could not hide that fact that much of the dialogue was inane, rather than amusing, in its wackiness. Occasional sketches, such as the one about two very different young men who meet at a festival, had a tendency to drag. Some were based on a promising premise yet somehow fail to deliver: the spoof of a ‘BBC 6’ teen drama set in the Hitler Youth was a fantastic concept (can you think of a less likely meet-cute than a simultaneous Hitler salute?) and yet somehow it never seemed to reach its full potential.

Other skits, however, were well-crafted and well-sustained: the Shakespeare satire made clever use of iambic pentameter and audience asides; the birthday speech by a naïve father to his less-than-wholesome daughter was a humorous send-up of the middle-class bubble; and my own personal favourite involved a moody Scottish youth confronting his brother about his unusual addiction.

The real highlight of the show was the undeniable acting talent of the two Toms, in particular in physical comedy, which far outweighed the strength of their material. Their performances were tight, poised, and professional - never losing focus for a second. If the audience felt unmoved by a dry script, it never felt embarrassed by a poor performance. The two actors interacted with enthusiasm and well-rehearsed effortlessness, in complete control of their accents, movements, and timings, inhabiting each caricature with such gusto that the audience no longer saw the bareness of set or the absence of costume.

Granted, there is a certain audience for this kind of humour. The front row in the theatre hooted with laughter throughout the show (although a large proportion of them began hooting when the compère announced the duo, so perhaps they were just drunk). On the other extreme, a pair of girls sitting near me walked out halfway through. The overall feel of the show was one of cheeky public-school charm, not unlike an extended Gap Yah video. I liked the Gap Yah video – I just wouldn’t want to watch it for an hour.