Quarehawk

Ten minutes after the official start-time the lights dip. “Would you welcome to the stage … Dara O’Briain”, says an unseen voice behind the curtain, which you quickly realize is that of Dara O’Briain himself. And out he comes. Ah yes, I forgot this was Vicar Street, where the comedians have to develop multiple personality disorders and introduce themselves speaking in the third person.

It’s only Monday night and the place is pretty much full. Maybe everyone went home and changed but they don’t look much like the office crowd I was expecting. And Dara O’Briain doesn’t look much like a stand-up. In a smart suit minus the tie, and eschewing the traditional microphone stand for a pinned-on radio mic which leaves him free to gesticulate with both hands, he reminds you a bit of a motivational speaker at a corporate gathering.

Which it turns out he does a lot of. Corporate gigs I mean, not motivational seminars (Jesus, what a thought!). Which shouldn’t surprise anyone. Because Dara O Briain is not really an outlaw of comedy, ranting against the system. He’s a middle of the road, clean cut, intelligent wit. Very corporate. In fact some of his funniest anecdotes are about the company gigging scene, most notably the story of how someone from Tayto Ireland presented him with a box of their beloved product after a show. You’ll have to take my word that it’s a funny story, because I’m trying to stay away from giving away jokes and ruining the gig for anyone who’s yet to to go.

It may surprise people who turn up based on his tv work, that on stage Dara O’Briain is a total motormouth. So much so, it can be hard to keep up, and every second word is “fuck”. Really.

He gives us a few a few nice speils about hotels, AIB ads, and the street he lives on in London and its neighbourhood watch.

Speaking of which, The Onion ran an article once about how the phrase “I’m living in LA now” was being retired from the script of all American comedians due to it becoming a cliche. We should think about something similar for their Irish counterparts stating “I’m living in London now”. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. Irish comics are like Irish footballers in that sense - the good ones eventually have to go across the water.

If you find yourself watching a home-grown funnyman and don’t hear the Living in London line, you are usually looking at someone who’s either just starting out or just isn’t very good. Thankfully neither of which can be said about our funnyman this evening.

The father of “The Panel”, O’Briain is a brainy guy, with his degree in Theoretical Physics. “A numbers guy and a nerd” he proudly announces. And sorry for the awful joke but he actually doesn’t sweat much for a fat bloke, especially considering he jumps around so much. He’s also a committed Gaeilgoir and of course has to get that in somewhere. But that’s fine, it adds to the experience when a comic is confident enough to let some of himself into the act, and not shy away from being who he is. And who he is is a man with something worthwhile to say, testing the water with a bit about the hogwash that is homeopathy and horoscopes, a section that could be expanded into a pretty interesting full show if he’s got the balls for it. It wouldn’t please everyone but he’s a big enough star not to worry about that now. And being married to a doctor, he’s got an angle on the whole thing.

Instead of just the usual “Where are you from?” banter with the crowd, he offers out the challenge “Who here has ever interrupted a crime in progress?”. It’s a diversion that works well, extracting for us a few interesting stories from the audience, which he rips the piss out of.

O’Briain thinks out loud a lot during the set - “I expected a better laugh from that one” he laments after his Gloria Estefan And The Miami Sound Machine joke fizzles. “That bit should have been included earlier” he confesses after going off on a bewildering side-track. And it’s true, tonight’s performance does feel like a rehearsal in parts. So I guess the Monday night crowd got shafted a bit in that respect. Expect it to be much more honed closer to the final night.

The wrap-up is a piece of originality to match Des Bishop’s from a few weeks back. He comes back on stage and gives an Oscar-like speech thanking everyone he’s picked on during the evening as if they were part of his personal entourage, improvising a little funny and surreal biography for each of them as he goes. Referring to them by name and and encouraging an applause for each. A nice touch, and a treasured memory for them. I hope their friends were quick-thinking enough to catch it on their video phones.

This Vicar Street run continues until the 19th of November. Expect it to improve as each night passes, and expect it to sell out. Because he’s on several tv stations now and gets decent exposure on the chat show scene, so it won’t be just die-hard grizzled comedy nuts and personal friends filling the seats, there’ll be loads of company nights out and social clubs in the mix.

And if you’re on the events committee for a company with a few bob (because I wouldn’t say he comes cheap), you could do worse than book him - the current King of Irish Stand-up.

Get him a nice big box of Taytos.