What’s unfortunately also apparent is that he doesn’t seem to be a natural stand-up at all. While he has a great range of performance abilities at his disposal, there’s very little sign of comedic inspiration.

He starts, for example, by bringing his pint on stage and engaging in a bit of trivial chit-chat about remembering to pick it up later. There’s no joke to this, and you might be forgiven for thinking it was just a bit of banter to warm people up, but it’s actually material, repeated each time…

Much of the rest of his writing is bog-standard fare, talking about the automated cinema phone line that misunderstands what he’s saying, for instance, or his sending an incriminating text to his father by mistake.

He talks about the trials of being an actor, poor dear, but most audiences will care about such precious moaning. At one point he defends himself from an imaginary character who complains Florez can’t be much of an actor as he hasn’t been in anything he’s ever seen. The witty pay-off? ‘Fuck off and leave me alone. [Beat]. Dad.’

He must have more to say than this, given that he used to be a small-time drug dealer, which you might expect to be the source of many a tale. The one routine he has on the subject is pretty funny, if too slow to set up, but otherwise he sticks to safe subjects such as internet porn and meeting the girlfriends’ parents.

The cool reaction of the audience doesn’t seem to phase him, which may demonstrate an admirable thick skin, but might also mean he has little incentive to write better material. But until he does, he’ll remain an actor playing the part of a stand-up – and unconvincingly at that – than a real comedian speaking from the heart.