Effervescing with jollity, Gildea's chipper enthusiasm is as infectious as Sars, elevating her material an extra notch or two.

The routines, drawing heavily on her Irish Catholic upbringing are better than average, not spectacular, perhaps, but solid, and gleefully told.

Even though some of her topics may be familiar, Gildea mostly dodges the obvious, finding new angles of her own. Even the dread topics of tampons is tackled with style, thanks in part ot an injection of instilled guilt.

But her main achievement is tosweeps her audience along on a tide of honest and good-natured piss-taking. And she's got a damn fine singing voice, too, as any fan of the now-extinct Nualas will attest.