Before this review gets off the ground, a confession must be made. Chris Page, if you or ‘your people’ are reading this review it seems only fair that I, the objective reviewer, apologise for getting distracted by your beautiful hair at various points in your very first solo stand-up comedy show, Big Fluffy Death Metal Puppy. Perhaps it was the lighting, or the performer's allure, or maybe just the ‘Pantene’ effect, but Page’s hair shone like a unicorn’s mane throughout and deserves its own mention.

The night’s actual comedy, however, got off to a slightly stilted start with the warm up act whose name is unfortunately absent from any publicity and so shall remain a nameless Plantsci. While her geeky puns were generally a hit with the audience, some of her other material failed to hit the laugh mark at all. It was also a shame that several of the jokes were, accidentally I hope, material from other comedy vehicles. The cheese joke about how to disguise a horse — mascarpone — I have most certainly heard elsewhere, as had another audience member behind me who announced the punchline before it was given. Equally being "whelmed" (rather than overwhelmed or underwhelmed) was reminiscent of Ten Things I Hate About You, and rail companies warning passengers about being “sucked off” is originally Peter Kay’s.

Chris Page unsurprisingly held the stage with much more assurance. His entire set connected well, with seamless bridges between different topics and anecdotes. It is also refreshing to encounter stand-up that engages with rarely considered subjects, as Page did with Death Metal music. Watching someone reading the lines “I push my fingers into my eyes/It’s the only thing that slowly stops the ache” in such a bemused manner was irresistibly funny. Some other high points of absurdity included the first English translation of The Communist Manifesto which turned the famous phrase "the spectre of Communism" into "a frightful hobgoblin". Page painted an image of Marx drunkenly clinging to a lamppost, refusing to come down until Capitalism had crumbled, forever changing the way I view left-wing politicians.

Page is certainly creative, and blends his persona into his comedy very effectively. However, whether he can objectively grasp his own comedy is potentially another matter. Almost all stand up comedy sets are try-outs, but Big Fluffy Death Metal Puppy struggled a little under the weight of its own uncertainty. The largest laughs were at the beginning of the set, rather than building towards a climax at the end, and vital comedic pace was missing in the second half of the show. There were a few too many sections with long pre-ambles – at times it seemed the political or social point of the content was getting more attention that the comedy. This is one of the hardest balances to find in stand-up and doing it effectively requires a lot of honing. Perhaps this loss of pace was what inspired my internal monologue of admiration for Page’s hair.

In order to reach great comedic heights, Chris Page could certainly benefit from more experience with his material. However with this original, gloriously absurd, and at times meaningful performance, finding a willing audience for said opportunity should be easy.