Best of British, hosted by UK-born, now Melbourne-based comedian Dan Willis, somehow manages to hit all the right notes. Willis, who has a solo show of his own, proclaims Best of British to be the best value show at the Fringe: four acts in 60 minutes – five if you count the host. At only $20 a ticket, that works out to $4 per comedian. You can’t even get a beer that cheap.

The acts change from night to night, as comedians exit and enter the Fringe cycle. The only constant is the affable presence of Dan Willis, who takes advantage of the small crowd by going around and shaking hands with every audience member before the show begins.

Out on the balcony above P.J. O’Brien’s Bar, four comedians then prepare to do battle with the crowd, the elements and the noisy street below. As a fire engine roars down East Terrace, opening act Eddie Bannon declares: “That’s the worst heckle I’ve ever had!”

Following Bannon this particular night is English comedian Juliet Meyers, who is self-reportedly jetlagged, having just flown in from England, but delivers an animated and hilarious series of anecdotes nonetheless. After Meyers comes Neil Sinclair, with his seemingly neverending series of one-liner puns. Some jokes seem to fly over the heads of the audience, but all in all it makes for an entertaining and unique departure from the earlier comics.

One of the great things about a showcase night like Best of British is that, if one of the acts isn’t making you laugh, all you have to do is wait it out for 10 or 12 minutes and someone else will be up on stage. Although, with the line-ups Willis seems capable of pulling together, it’s probably more likely that instead of hating one of the acts, you might discover your new favourite comic. Short sets also force the comedians to condense their routines, pushing all of their best jokes together and cutting out any rambling filler. Willis really wasn’t kidding when he said this show was the best value show at the Fringe.

The headlining act (if you can call it headlining when no-one knows who’s on the bill) is ‘as seen on TV’ Adelaide comedian Mickey D – a last-minute replacement, Willis admits, for a mystery British comedian who had pulled out. It’s an oddly localised way end to a show entitled Best of British, but it’s all a light-hearted affair, and no-one walks away feeling like they haven’t had a good laugh. In the end, that is what we paid for, right?

Maybe this show should come with a disclaimer: does not actually contain any Radiohead songs, references, or Thom Yorke-inspired dance moves (see Lotus Flower). It does, however, contain a few Michael Jackson moves, a smattering of popular music and a number of entertaining jokes and tales from UK observational comedian Dan Willis.

Willis’ hour-long show isn’t exactly your run of the mill, polished to perfection stand-up routine. It’s part improvisational, part observational, part audiovisual (there is a slideshow involved) and part interactional. On this particular day dressed in a t-shirt, shorts and sandals to beat the late afternoon heat, Willis’ casual appearance matched his demeanour, which created an easy rapport, so much so that the audience was more than comfortable shouting out guesses for songs and engaging in a bit of banter. The prospect of becoming part of the show itself can be pretty daunting to wallflowers like me, but Willis’ jokes are built with and by audience members and never at their expense.

Apart from the slideshow and queue of MP3s, it all flows like a lively pub conversation. As with most story-telling and observational humour, it can be a while between moments of laughter, but when they do come, they positively erupt.

An MP3 player hanging from the back of a chair containing a selection of music is the key vehicle for the show, as Willis uses songs as entry points into winding but energetic tales from his adolescence and early adulthood. Then the music takes centrestage itself: what do Bruce Willis, Stefan Dennis (AKA Paul Robinson from Neighbours) and Bruno Mars have in common? Well, for one, they all receive comedic treatment from Willis (Dan Willis, that is) that ranges from admiration to incredulity to downright disgust.

If there is criticism for RadioHead Redux it’s that, for a show that purports to be ‘a journey into feel-good music’, it is more an inside look at Willis’ experiences as a lifelong music lover and a comedian than it is an actual voyage of musical discovery. Still, even if you took a punt on this show expecting more of the latter, you’re unlikely to come out with a frown on your face. This is the thing about music, after all, as Willis demonstrates at the start of the show. Even if you’re on a plane that appears to have an 80% chance of crashing, all you have to do is change the music and soon your mood will change with it. If there’s ever been a song that reminds you of a person, a place, a time or a feeling, you will find yourself relating to Dan Willis in this show.

RadioHead Redux is on at 4PM at the Tuxedo Cat on North Terrace every Saturday and Sunday until the 17^th of March, as well as one Monday on the 11^th.