Ardal O'Hanlon, Pavilion Theatre, Bournemouth

FROM family-friendly TV to a naked stage in one mighty bound, can O'Hanlon still cut it as a stand-up superhero?

And can he truly cast off the typecasting shackles of the gormless priest from Father Ted?

Well, in typically contrary O'Hanlon fashion, yes and no. He has a sharp wit, that's for sure, and an endearingly Irish way with words.

There is much of the bumbling Father Dougal McGuire about him, though, whether he's off on one of his childishly surreal flights of fantasy or ruminating on more grown-up stuff - which is fine in half-hour sit-com segments, but can wear just a wee bit thin after an hour.

He's charming and immensely likeable, but there were times later in the set when I wished he had more - and weightier - material.

The good bits were very good, like how he's all in favour of immigration from Poland "because I can now fill the X, Y and Z pages in my address book", and how the West has always had a problem with the Islamic world "because they have curved swords, and can kill people round corners".

I also liked his reflections on marriage and fatherhood, but there were too many tired comedy staples, such as flat-pack furniture and growing grumpier with age.

The audience inter-action was fun, and the atmosphere was genial, a relief after recent smut-fests featuring other big-name comics at the same venue.

But behind that scatty exterior lies a keen intellect - it would be nice to see it exercised more.

A word too for Kitty Flanagan who, despite the name, is as Aussie as they come. It's not easy warming up an audience waiting impatiently for someone else - she managed it with ease.