Reeves and Mortimer have always occupied a unique place in British culture – managing to position themselves somewhere between Bruce Forsyth and Chris Morris.

What has set them apart from other nonsense comics over the years is their sheer likeability and it continued to shine through in this set at the Brighton Centre.

They had kept hold of what brought them together in the first place – they were two blokes doing very silly things for their own amusement as much as anyone else’s.

In their first live show since 1995, references to Bob Mortimer’s recent heart operation were a running gag (“127 ladies and gentleman, we may get through this”).

But any fears that this might have slowed the pace were put to rest by the gusto with which the pair entered into the obligatory saucepan fight and thigh rubbing dance.

Their constant attempts to corpse each other and obvious amusement at their own jokes were infectious. However, the decision to treat the show as a canter down 25 years of Reeves & Mortimer characters did occasionally seem a little forced. The duo have created some memorable alter-egos during their career but have always eschewed a Harry Enfield-like reliance on them to drive their shows.

Coupled with the fact that much of the audience was probably most familiar with them from Shooting Stars, it meant that the revival of some classic lines and characters (“You wouldn’t let it lie” / the man with the stick) didn’t quite get the rapturous response they probably deserved.

Having clearly been influenced by Monty Python in their younger days, perhaps Reeves and Mortimer were inspired by the troupe’s recent greatest hits tour.

But while there was no escaping the sad fact that the Pythons were past their best and together only for one last pay day, Vic and Bob seemed as fresh today as when Judge Nutmeg delivered his first verdict 25 years ago.

Four stars