Russell Kane: Smallness, Milton Keynes Stables, review You know those bits at the end of radio adverts when they go into hyper-fast mode, rattling off terms and conditions without any seeming need to draw a breath? Well, that would appear to be the natural delivery style of motormouth comic Russell Kane. OK, I exaggerate a little but when Kane concludes his stop-off at Milton Keynes by suggesting we've had two sets-worth in the time it usually takes to impart one, it's hard not to take him at his word. Someone should wire him up and monitor his brain-activity during a performance; his grey cells must go into a frenzy of activity. Kane is rare among comics in that he's primarily an ideas man - he binds day-to-day observations together to achieve sweeping socio-political contentions. That might make him sound airy-fairy and highfalutin. But although he's camp (a running gag plays on the fact that he looks like, and is often mistaken for, Radio 1 DJ Nick Grimshaw) and his theories are open to debate and even dismantling, his Essex-boy street-wisdom, his whirling physicality and steady pursuit of laughs keep things grounded. Somehow, though he's one of a kind, he's the man of the people, telling it like it is. The thrust of "Smallness" is that we're a nation hamstrung by needing things to be small-scale. We live on a small island, our family groups are small ... we don't like to look, we don't like to move our faces. We find it hard to express love, are "masters of silent sex" and we hate even getting into conversation with other people from the UK when abroad on holiday. In short, whatever you've read in the papers about us being a newly uninhibited nation needs to be taken with a pinch of understanding that we're as repressed as ever. Kane, 33, embellishes his theme with anecdotes about being laughed at when falling over in the street, experiencing awkwardness when finding himself in the same hot-tub as Nicole Scherzinger and Lewis Hamilton during a luxury hotel break, and getting embroiled in a macho misunderstanding while on holiday in Thailand. Along the way there's much ribbing of the broad demographic he appeals to: the young, the old, middle-class culture-vultures ("We don't need a television do we Roger? We smashed it when Channel 4 launched in 1982") and set-in-their-ways cockney geezers. If he keeps making shows this smart, and this funny, he's going to be very big indeed.