Forget the misguided old cliche about female comics always talking about periods; one of the more common lines of attack is for women stand-ups to paint themselves as a desperate, borderline-psychotic stalkers.

Kiwi Anna Freyburg adds to the tally, though she does so with some style, even though her relative lack of experience shows in her performance. She comes across as delivering a monologue that’s carefully written and rehearsed, rather than the looser, more conversational approach most comics have at least learned to fake. But her extended metaphor comparing her non-existent love life to a cafe’s bakery products was wittily whimsical, with plenty of warmth to her presence and admirable lines in the writing.