Ross Noble must have the most lucrative subconscious in showbusiness. The biggest-selling act on this year's Edinburgh fringe, the Geordie stand-up returns to the West End with another evening of incongruous, largely extemporised comedy. At his best, his fever of free association steers him towards some irresistibly ridiculous comic scenarios. But there are longueurs in this two-and-a-half hour set. And when Noble's not being funny, there's nothing to fall back on.
He starts with whatever scrap of comic possibility his audience or circumstances offer him. Having seized on that, he's off, hungrily accepting and developing all that his subconscious suggests about the subject until improbable comic fantasies emerge. Two Refugee Council employees in the front row provoke a scene in which asylum seekers are catapulted across the Channel by folding theatre seats. Another punter nibbling at his half-time peanuts becomes Friar Tuck, pumping ale to the upper circle: "Absorbent hats to catch the falling mead!"
There are new departures. As the asylum-seeker material indicates, Noble is broaching current affairs. His joke that the 45-minute claim in the Iraq dossier was cribbed from a Domino's Pizza leaflet gets the evening's biggest laugh - although, after over an hour of nonsense, that may reflect the crowd's relief at material with some purchase on the real world. Even Noble's topical gags, such as the one about refugees' fashion sense, are trivial. At one point, he tells us that he's glued to the telly 24 hours a day. We could have guessed.
Noble's set, a garden full of triffid-like flowers, is appropriate: gaudy, dreamlike and nothing to do with anything. But his rapport with his audience, his uninhibited imagination and his technical impro skill are spectacles in themselves. You may, like me, hanker for meaning. But this is probably as much fun as something totally meaningless can be.
· Until September 27. Box office: 0870 890 1104.
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