‘Dog ear’ refers to an accidental folded corner next to Marty Gleeson’s work in her art school showcase. (Yes, of course she went to art school. Though as she explains, art school in Limerick is for all the same kids who had a smoking area outside their school disco, just the ones who could draw a horse.) The lesson: don't leave anything to chance - they'll notice.

And so with this show, everything is very deliberate and performed with conviction. There is no “oh I need some stronger material there” or “haha I never know how that bit’s going to go”. That's not to say every part of this show fully lands with the audience, by any means. But it's the show as it was intended. To see a performer commit to the bit, to the extent she does in particular when playing out a funeral scene (and if you're trying to guess how, you're wrong) may be unrivalled at this year's festival. It pays off with what may be its most brilliant extended joke. No spoilers.

She makes reference to having always had a deeper voice. This lends itself to her dry and unflinching delivery, ever serious (despite the content of many of the scenes that ensue.) Fans of Stevie Martin or perhaps Joe Wilkinson should get this humour.

It had me laughing out loud more than most shows I've seen at this year's Fringe. Which is some going, considering many of the 56-capacity crowd with me in Bunker One at the Pleasance were together on a work night out (albeit scattered around the room - incongruously for colleagues from an interior designs firm), seemingly against their will. As comedy shows go, this isn't really entry level; some of these fresh-faced lads didn't stand a chance.

There’s time travel. A 183-year-old David Attenborough. A fully played out RTE News broadcast. In the hands of another comic, this is wacky silliness. In Marty Gleeson's hands, this is art. As even the young boys in the smoking area know: respect art.

See Marty Gleeson at Soho Theatre, 5-10 October