It is said that comedy is tragedy plus time – and it’s taken Ed Byrne time to address the death last year of his brother, the comedy director Paul. So much time that three shows at last year’s fringe, each by a bereft colleague of Paul’s, got there first. That in no way diminishes the power of 51-year-old Ed’s account, which traces not only the younger man’s illness, hospitalisation and death, but the pair’s fraught relationship leading up to it. This is not, as Byrne himself is surprised to realise, a show about death so much as reconciliation – it’s about holding your loved ones close, despite everything, while you have the chance. In the hands of a less experienced act, the comedy and tragedy might (and often do) make for a cumbersome mix. But there are no grinding gear shifts in Tragedy Plus Time, which is open about Byrne’s grief and regret while never letting them occlude the laughter. It helps that the spiky relationship between the siblings – both comedy professionals, remember – is manifest on stage, as Ed jokes about Paul’s diagnosis of liver failure (“there was a certain amount of user error there”) and celebrates the black humour behind the soundtrack he chose for his own cremation. This is also a pandemic show: it was Covid-19 that led to Paul’s death, with heartbreak and heavy drinking as accomplices. Ed makes short shrift of Covid denialism; there’s a choice gag about a conspiracy theorist pal who claims calories don’t exist. Byrne doesn’t shrink from an argument – which may be why, for 12 of the last 16 months of his brother’s life, they weren’t speaking. How trivial that all seems now, and the elder Byrne makes his small-mindedness at the time – and his brother’s, too – the butt of the joke. There’s a coda dealing with life in the wake of Paul’s death, and Byrne includes a gag credited to his brother. It’s not the strongest; perhaps there’s some subconscious sibling rivalry at play in its selection. That would be in keeping with this affecting but unvarnished show about brothers, bereavement and burying the hatchet while you still can. At Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh, until 27 August