Sunday, 3 April 2022

Tommy Tiernan, "Tomfoolery", King's Theatre, Glasgow Sun 3rd April, 2022


I love the dark humour of Tommy Tiernan. The diminutive Irishman has an impish quality like the Devil's come to town to make us laugh. His material tiptoes along a barbed wire, fully aware one wrong foot and he's going straight back to hell. But he knows all the steps like a secret dance.

It's a brave comedian that comes to Glasgow and, from the off, nails his colours to the wall, celebrating the Celtic victory earlier today by painting a verbal picture of the crowd waving the Papal flag and singing a series of borderline sectarian crowd chants. He could so easily have split the audience. But not his audience.

His beard is now long and white and he wears the style of a Samuel Beckett tramp, only in a beanie hat, not a bowler. His humour lies not just in the situations he relates but in his exquisite turn of phrase (for example, describing his family's yappy dog as a cross between a mop and a panic attack). His comedy is like tantric sex only with tickles as he knows exactly how to hold an audience to tease out the laugh. His bit about his appearance on Ireland's Late Late Show was a masterpiece in audience control, steering us from one dark place to another darker one, knowing exactly where the laughs were. I was sore from laughing.

Or maybe it was the Covid, generously being doled out by the maskless couple behind us, both of whom had horrendous coughs. Hers was persistent like she was hocking up the Sahara from her lungs, followed by a gentle ha-ha-ha as she finished her laugh. His had flavour, not that I'm experienced enough to identify which cigarette brand he smoked. Between them, they sounded like a faulty respirator. Not healthy and they probably shouldn't have been there. If I do catch it, I'll blame Nicola now that she's made lateral flow tests mythical creatures.  

On the way home, the after-effects of the Old Firm game were very much in evidence. Having been diverted off the motorway, we drove along Paisley Road West and encountered fans crossing the junction heading to Marios Takeaway. They weren't interested in green men (so Rangers supporters) and dolefully staggered towards the brights lights of the chippy signage like drunken moths in search of vinegared grease. And as everyone knows holding a hand up in front of a speeding Mercedes is a foolproof way to stop the car.

Then outside Capital Chinese Takeaway on Causeyside Street, a brave lassie who'd aborted crossing in front of the passing cars elected to perform traffic signals from the pavement helpfully waving us on with her thumb like she was giving us permission to pass. Either that or she still thinks people pick up hitchhikers that can barely stand. 

I forgot to mention that the support act was Eleanor Tiernan, Tommy's cousin. She was far better than the nepotism would suggest and seemed to enjoy her set while playing with the microphone cord. 

Ticket Price £25.40 each 



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