Rather then accepting the label of misanthrope ascribed to him by a number of critics, Jon Richardson prefers to be seen as someone who has strongly held personal beliefs and is not open to rational argument.

Tonight, Rhod Gilbert was on fire. I took it as a good sign that he was outside the venue talking to his audience before they came in, and that ease of manner continued throughout this show.

Two years ago, Daniel Kitson, master storyteller and stand-up comedian, elegised the C-90 compilation tape at Edinburgh before taking his show around the world. This year, in 66a Church Road – A Lament, Made of Memories And Kept In Suitcases, he turns to the break-up of his longest relationship – with much-loved lodgings at that address.

Armed only with a chat-up line and the bait of being the fittest girl on the beach in Walberswick, Dani – on holiday from London – lands two 16-year-old crabbers for some action.

Ballet Black is a small but determined company. Worried by a shortage of
non-white role models in ballet, founder Cassa Pancho has set up her own
company of black and Asian classical dancers. This second season at the Linbury
Studio Theatre has an ambitious programme of new choreography, with works from
Shobana Jeyasingh and Richard Alston.

They converged on the tranquil hamlet of Mitcheldean in Gloucestershire on a
blustery day in March that offered little hope of spring. Their shiny brown
faces beamed out from the fogged up windows of the white people carrier, that
was transporting them from the airport to The Asha Centre on the edge of the
Forest of Dean.

What may be one of the first ever Alpine comedy festivals is an appealing
combination: skiing all day, comedy all night. The French ski resort Meribel is
currently playing host to the inaugural Altitude Festival, the brainchild of
the comedian Marcus Brigstocke - a mad-keen snowboarder.

Relations between England and Spain could have been greatly improved if our
immigration officers had greeted the troupe of Peter Pan - El Musical with a
famous phrase in their native tongue: "No pasaran." Instead, some misguided
notion of cultural exchange sees this hybrid of JM Barrie and a tenth-rate
Eighties disco in the West End.

When Pam Ann, the buxom, errant and flamboyant air hostess creation of
Caroline Reid, graduated from gay cabaret clubs to provincial arts centres,
without compromising the references to poppers and cocaine along the way, her
gigs became like large air industry jollies, corporate gigs open to all.

Part Jerry Springer, part Inherit the Wind, this courtroom drama, in which a
passionate attorney tries to get Judas released from Hell, is lively, sloppy,
sentimental, shocking, earnest, patronising - in short, it is utterly American,
a big shaggy dog of a play that you want simultaneously to pat on the head and
to push to the floor as it tries to climb into your lap.