Richard Herring

Herring is on a personal journey. His latest Fringe offering is an hour-long retreat into the past to find out what the lasting psychological effects are on a boy who spent his formative years as the son of the headmaster. It's the classic nature vs. nurture debate, ("maybe I'm just a dick because I'm a dick?") which sees Herring battle it out for answers against his 16-year-old former self.

This all sounds distinctly un-Herring-like, and that's because it is. This year, we're treated to a comedian who has matured, both in content and performance. The trademark penis-jokes are still there but they're funnier; proof that Herring's dip into the psyche of the sex-obsessed male teenager is top-notch comedy fodder. In one particular incident involving a young Herring, a pair of compasses and his older sister's friend, the headmaster's son even shows a hint of bashful shame, as if he's back in his dad's house scared that his perverted actions will be discovered.

In The Headmaster's Son, Herring cuts a thoughtful and reflective character – reading from his teenage diary he achieves moments of genuine emotion, particularly when talking about his father, to whom the show is affectionately dedicated. Herring's tales of school life are easy to empathise with; the uneasiness of adolescence is skillfully captured and relayed to the audience. There may be another reason for this familiarity, as Herring points out: "some of these are memories, others are plots from Grange Hill - I'm getting old..." but I'm not buying that. With his latest offering, Herring has finally got it right. The Headmaster's Son is a tantalising mix of humour, charm and depth. With a show about his childhood, Herring has finally grown-up.