Fame may be fleeting for some, but for the late-starter Ricky Gervais it’s a rich source of material. There’s the charity work, the tabloid taunts and million-pound pay checks. When he’s holed up in his Hampstead mansion with half of Hollywood dropping round for tea, it’s a wonder he needs — or wants — to do stand-up at all.

But Gervais has never been afraid to mock himself, and for this purpose fame is the ideal topic. Meanwhile, his critics have been all too quick to point out that his stand-up falls well short of the calibre of his television output. It’s a fair assessment, but hardly insightful. The graveyard of television sitcom pilots is littered with accomplished stand-ups whose transition to the small screen has been a calamity of canned laughter. Gervais is an excellent live comedian — this is only his third tour — he’s just better on television.

Stand-up is a discipline that doesn’t lend itself to the subtleties of Gervais’s physical comedy — arguably his biggest talent — nor the somewhat feckless manner of his delivery. Some of his material isn’t quite as up-to-date as the craftsman stand-up whose daily grind is rarely interrupted by a leading role in Ben Stiller’s latest blockbuster. But the funnier stuff draws from tales of his humiliations and his meteoric rise from entertainment manager to Hollywood’s hottest Brit.

In Fame, Gervais chooses to embrace his celebrity rather than apologise for it, and the result is strangely endearing. His entrance is deliberately ostentatious: he emerges from a cloud of smoke in a crown and cloak with the kind of swagger patented by Bill Hicks. Behind him, his name is written in giant light bulb letters in a manner worthy of Elvis. Every so often he disappears behind an 10ft-high Emmy statue to swig from a can of beer.

After all, Gervais is a star and his success is deserved — as are the Golden Globes, the Emmys and his status among Hollywood glitterati, who all think he’s the funniest thing to come out of Britain since the regional accent.

While five million DVD sales and the fastest-selling comedy tour of all time have enriched his bank balance, it has done little to blunt his caustic edge.

He suggests that as a result of his work for cancer charities, he should be able to wander into any hospital in the country and commandeer the nearest doctor.

A pedestrian routine about obesity is one of a few slightly desperate attempts to drag things out for the full hour, but in the end Gervais disappears with the audience begging for more.

For now, the man is bigger than his jokes.

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