London Comedy Award nomination Jason Manford: 'If Santa ever pops his boots, Jason Manford is the man for the job; he spreads joy like Madonna spreads her weirdly muscular legs.'

Ah, Jason Manford, you’re just what this strung-out, bitter and fed-up nation needs: a lovely comic-tonic to raise our wintery, debt-ridden spirits. I roared my socks off at Manford’s final show - along with 7,999 other punters - of his mammoth tour of jolly. If Santa ever pops his boots, Manford is the man for the job; he spreads joy like Madonna spreads her weirdly muscular legs.

Manford isn’t political, or absurdist, or cruel about people with ginger hair. His strength is observational comedy, commenting on the odd minutiae of everyday life that anyone and everyone can relate to: pets, family, taking the bins out, football and, naturally, “really posh dogging”. His show is a glorious smorgasboard of witticisms, gentle criticisms and impressions of his dad, transforming the dull into something delightful. Nothing he says is so outrageously rude that you laugh because you fear that the awkward sound of silence will kill you; you laugh because he’s really bloody funny. A proper, joyous belly-laugh too - just like Santa Manford would want.