My daughter sees a lot of shows at Hall For Cornwall, but rarely gets to choose them. Nikita Kuzmin’s Midnight Dancer was the exception; she’s somewhat enamoured with the Strictly star, referring to him as “my husband”.

Judging from the rapturous reception the Ukrainian-born hoofer received from the sell-out audience, he could be married several times over. And given how easily he is parted from his shirt, revealing a set of perfectly toned and well-oiled abs, I suspect Nikita is more than happy to play to the crowd.

This was my first experience of a Strictly solo tour, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. What I got was a visual feast devised by the man himself with a little help from none other than Cornishman Tom Jackson-Greaves, a professional choreographer and director well known to fans of Kneehigh and Matthew Bourne.

There was a story of sorts: think star-crossed lovers with a dash of The Artist. A movie star meets a dancer who might just be the love of her life, if only her controlling agent will let her be with him. At least, I think that’s how it goes – it wasn’t always clear, if I’m honest. I’m basing that synopsis on the recap that started the second half, and I could have done with a few pointers before then. But then, the plot’s just a prop on which to hang some fantastically athletic dancing by Nikita and his lithe supporting troupe.

At regular intervals, someone hands Nikita a mike and he steps out of character for a little chat with the audience, sporting an endearing northern accent he’s picked up from his team. Patter is cheesy and occasionally random; “Where do you shop? Tesco’s, anyone? Who’s at Sainsbury’s?” The latter wins the contest, with a bit of coaxing.

But Nikita seems genuinely lovely, and the audience just laps it up. Occasionally he veers off script, delivering a heartfelt paean to teachers upon discovering that Chris, his victim plucked from the audience, is a chemistry lecturer. “I think you’re a wonderful person,” Chris gushes back, before bringing the house down with an extremely game display of dad dancing in a spangly green cape, while Nikita cavorts around him in an alarmingly short dress and thigh-length boots.

Kuzmin’s star act is more than matched by resident singer Rebecca Lisewski, a magnetic presence who dominates the stage, belting her way through big numbers like I Will Survive and Lady Marmalade. Her rendition of Billie Eilish’s Quiet When I’m Coming Home - backing a period of hardship on the part of Kuzmin’s character – was measured and devastating.

The show ends with tears of gratitude on Kuzmin’s part; he simply cannot believe his good fortune. “Me nan would’ve loved the shooow, although me grandad wouldn’t have liked the references to drugs” (What? Did I miss that? Damn.)

And we were pretty lucky too, having enjoyed a great girl’s night out. “I can’t believe I was in the same room as him,” says Daughter, blissfully happy. Our verdict: Fab-u-lous, dahling.