WEBSTER'S stage, and probably street, persona of unreconstructed Geordie bloke is charming and likeable.

Old fashioned misogyny, thinly disguised as "post-modern irony" for any politically correct faint hearts, features heavily and traditional bar room banter seems to be his shtick.

It is almost like having a one-sided conversation with an obnoxious, yet comically sharp-minded drunk in a Tyneside boozer.

Topics for vitriolic rants from the people's proletarian range from international politics to different parts of the North-East - which he does very well, being a local lad.

Webster has some choice material and some of his one-liners are up there with the best comics on the UK circuit but, unfortunately, they are a bit sparse and some of them were used the last time I saw him three years ago.

His Geordie Travis Bickle, from Taxi Driver, was fantastic and included gems like "Roadworks on the Coast Road - dya mind if ah gan via Alnwick?"

But it was marred by the fact it was mimed to a tape and his use of notes while describing an average Tyneside Street was unforgivable.

It consisted of a lot of similar establishments and would have worked better if delivered quicker, like a volley of machinegun fire, instead of ambling along.

There were times I genuinely didn't know where he was going next with the act, and whether this is intentional is hard to say.

The tumblers of whisky he was downing on stage probably didn't help, but at least it made him look hard.

Gavin Havery