Dalin Oliver wants to meet you. He wants to have a chat, let you know how things are with him and see how things are with you.

He also wants to share some knowledge about his hometown in South Africa to such a delightful extent that you feel you’ve already been. Important words are taught (Awey means: "hello, goodbye or whatever really") as well as the experience of being a very light-skinned man of colour. It’s a deep cultural connection in the guise of a great conversation with an interesting guy at the bar.

As a South African visiting WA Dalin’s show hangs on the premise of having 90 days to prove that he’s funny enough to stay. (He’s also auditing the meth amphetamine sales in Perth to ensure they’re up to the standards set in the South African centres of world ice commerce.) He’s home free in this audience’s eyes.

Painting a picture of everyday life in South Africa reminds us in Australia of simpler times when you could take your mates into town in the back of the ute (bakkie) before OHS went and spoilt the fun what with people dying and all.

Being engaged by a comedian is not usually for the faint-hearted. You’re a rabbit in the headlights waiting to be slain. Not with this guy. So relaxed in this arena he’ll give respect to “the Aunties” and is genuinely interested in what you say. For a comedian to do this they need to be completely comfortable with the unknown being thrown at them and confident that they can work with whatever is said. Rare indeed.

Poking fun at himself as the Vin Diesel who got the out-of-date Covid vaccine Dalin could be the friendliest bloke in town and certainly the most avuncular comedian. Shaking hands with the audience on the way out, he remembers your name and wishes you all the best. What a guy!