You know when someone goes to show you something on their device and they get side-tracked by other images – lots and lots of other images – and quickly flip through them telling you about them really fast as they head for what was it again and does it matter because what we’re seeing and hearing about is really captivating anyway even if it does leave you feeling giddy. Well Giddy is a bit like that. Except for all its apparent randomness it does achieve coherence.

Self-confessed ‘motormouth’ Leon Wadham, whose every word is nevertheless intelligible, describes his solo show – played out in a bare space but with impactful sound and lighting (I’m told Michael Trigg is at the desk for this) – as “an effervescent nightmare comedy”. (Pause) Yep. (Pause) I’ll pay that as he leaps on ever on to the next experience and you know what that is exactly what makes it so incredibly dramatic: it’s all experiential.

The rhythm and flow of his discursive narrative – I think we can call it that – plays out as verbal and physical poetry, rich in imagery, subjective observations and responses, spontaneous thoughts, captured concepts, explored ideas … Comparison in some respects with Eddie Izzard could be valid but really Leon Wadham is his own force of nature.

Wherever he takes us – and the places are many – to share in his everyday traumas, dilemmas or barely describable states of being (who knew Bunnings Warehouse could be so … oooh), his physicality is a master class in Laban movement. His stillness is as eloquent as his actions. He likewise traverses a full vocal range. And emotions. Who knew just one word (‘John’ as it happens) could evoke such loss.

All this is achieved with seemingly effortless panache. Barefoot. In black jeans and a loose blue t-shirt and a boyish face and innocent eyes that belie the places he’s been the things he has seen and the thoughts that have coursed through his brain.

Enough of my attempts to capture the tone and flavour of Giddy. It’s an astonishing show you could only possibly experience live in a theatre. Not to be missed – if you can get a seat.

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