Daniel Kitson, Andy Parsons at the Classic, Queen St

By GREG DIXON

Who the hell is Daniel Kitson? Is he a political comedian? Is he a maverick? Is he a genius? Is he mad?

Spending an hour plus with the award-winning British comedian - he won the Perrier Comedy Award at last year's Edinburgh Fringe Festival - suggests he could be all of these things or none of them.

The initial impression is that you would never want to invite this hairy, Class-A Contrarian to your house for dinner. You certainly don't want to heckle him or sit where he can see you - he's scary.

His material - which ranges from verbal assaults on all that he hates to poignant, hilarious memories of family funerals and gatherings - appears wholly improvised. He seems to pluck bitter ironies and farcical nonsense from the air.

But while it seems some sort of shambling, stream of consciousness exercise, you get the distinct impression he is five minutes ahead of his audience.

Kitson, who likes to honk ironical about being a maverick, could be an anti-comedian. But that suggests contrivance. His comedy certainly isn't that.

What he does do, or did on Wednesday night anyway, is extensive digressions wedded to a kind of running deconstruction of stand-up in general and his own performance in particular.

It's a non-show show. Yet you find yourself laughing your way to the point of a conniption without really knowing why. Perhaps this madman is a genius ...

Fellow Brit Andy Parsons is much more the traditionalist. With a live career stretching back to 1993, he has written for more than 15 television shows, including Spitting Image and Smith And Jones, and has a keen eye and ear for the illogical, stupid and the snort-inducing one-liner.

With a nasal, whiny delivery and a delightful propensity to giggle at his own jokes, Parsons is at his best when milking what he knows rather than attempting local material - though these gags, he freely admitted, were works in progress.

Ranging from war talk to how to stop taxi drivers talking and get you there quickly (tell them your problems), his is a warm, friendly, inclusive act which leaves you thinking he might be quite a good dinner guest replacement for the cutting Kitson.

As comic outings, however, both come recommended.