We’d fled the chaos of Pleasance Courtyard — not far, just down the hill to The Holyrood 9A and its frankly ridiculous gin selection (Rock Rose and Isle of Harris topped our highly scientific taste test, if you’re keeping score).

Refuelled, we made it back in plenty of time to bag second-row seats in the Fringe’s biggest venue. Our clown for the evening was already prowling in a parade of orange outfits, handing out suspicious scraps of paper to the front row and generally working the room before the show had even started.

Then the lights dropped, and Ivo Graham strode back out in an orange suit so bright it could stop traffic. For anyone who remembers the adverts: yes, he’s been Tangoed.

First order of business: explaining those mysterious scraps of paper. Graham wanted five “favourite orange things”, asking the audience to scribble down their suggestions for what might be under the cloches perched on five pedestals. Cue much confusion about whether a Terry’s Chocolate Orange counts (flavoured, yes — but technically not orange), and fierce debate over Irn-Bru, Lucozade or Tango. Like Highlander, “there can be only one” correct answer to that question in Scotland.

And the worse the guesses, the better Ivo gets — his mock despair is a thing of beauty.

But while he may describe himself as a “chaotic mess”, this isn’t wall-to-wall Ivo self-flagellation. Much of the hour is spent revelling in his new “top don” status, even crowning himself “top Ivo” (sorry, Karlović — retirement rules you out). Powered by orange, he’s positively glowing — though never too far from the trademark twitches and tangents that make him so watchable.

Amid the riffs on Wotsits, the shame of Lime bikes and dinner party disasters are moments of real poignancy. Graham casts himself as “David Attenborough on the playground” while reflecting on his daughter’s understanding of divorce and her grandmother’s MS — equal parts tender, awkward, and a reminder why this clown has done so many impressive charity runs.

He even wades into politics: from Gaza to the University of Edinburgh’s investment ties to Israel, Graham doesn’t hedge his bets — he makes his stance crystal clear.

And what ties all this orange together? It starts with Swindon Town FC, where Graham leads a fan protest group against the current owners — their orange hats a badge of resistance (surely the basis of a future show?). This campaign morphed into his fight to save the Swindon Oasis leisure centre — yes, the one that inspired the band’s name — culminating in an ill-advised hot tub video featuring an orange swim cap. From there, the show rolls joyfully on.

The verdict? A smart, funny, unexpectedly passionate hour from a comic who seems to be getting bolder in both colour and content. How he’s going to adapt this for Belfast, we’ve no idea — but we can’t wait to find out

Clown Stars: * * * *

@The Pleasance, Edinburgh

You can find out more about this clowns live shows at ivograham.com and if you enjoyed this review you may also enjoy…