He shares the same supercilious manner, the same deadpan delivery and the same sullen contempt for anything which irritates him – which seems to be quite a lot. This is a man who is constantly disappointed.

A small problem is that the things which annoy him will, most likely, be the things that annoy his audience, too; and at times he seems just to be sounding off like a grumpy young man on topics we’re all too familiar with.

Yet these mundane observations can crystalise into a deliciously sardonic line, which is when you suddenly see what he was building up to.

Although most of his routine is very much grounded in the everyday, it’s when he allows himself a small diversion into the surreal that provides his best moment: a wonderfully inspired segment about hamsters flying remote-controlled aircraft. On the delivery side, Moore’s an experienced comic with a tough veneer of professionalism, which means he’s unlikely to ever have a bad gig.

Yet he has also settled into that well-paid groove of playing big clubs every weekend and little else besides – a routine that does little to encourage variation from the same tried and tested twenty-minute set night after night.

So his set, solid as it is, barely changes, which is not ideal for repeat viewings. But, on first viewing at least, he’s a dependable addition to a comedy bill.