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"At the end of his last tour, Dara had performed the show "Voice Of Reason" 180 times, over 2 years across 20 countries, from Auckland to Reykjavik, from Moscow to New York; and by March 2020 he was ready for a break!
He would now like to apologise for saying that and will never wish for anything like that again.
Yes, he's back on tour and will never stop again, because that's clearly what caused all this trouble. Instead, in his new show 'So... Where Were We?', Dara will hardly mention the last year and a half, because, Jesus, who wants to hear about that, but will instead fire out the usual mix of stories, one-liners, audience messing, and tripping over his words because he is talking too quickly because he's so giddy to be back in front of a crowd."
This was an odd gig. I don't know if it was due to the crowd atmosphere or the venue's aesthetics but Dara seemed to have to work awfully hard to land the jokes. He is normally a natural at crowd work, using it to smooth the links between bits, referring back to individuals whenever relevant. Tonight, his crowd interactions all seemed crowbarred in just before the interval, like he'd forgotten he needed a roster to punctuate his later jokes. Then again, given the nature of that material, maybe he didn't need them but did it anyway like muscle memory.
In the first half, he discussed what it was like growing up in Ireland and how the craic often trumps the truth when it comes to relating a good tale. He told us of the time as a baby he'd fallen head-first into a drain, with all the garnish his mother afforded the story. Then he told us how he found out the truth. Some of the references didn't travel well, evoking a silent stare from the audience when he expected a belly laugh, forcing him to explain how an Irish audience would react to his story. It's not funny if you have to explain it. The same applied to a gag whose punchline required the listener to know the meaning of the German word Schadenfreude.
The Irish cultural references continued in the second half. The bulk of the set involved a long routine about his search to find his natural mother, having been taken from her and adopted as a baby. For reasons best known to the Catholic Church and the Irish State this was a common occurrence at the time. Back home in Ireland, this material packed a punch. Over here, not so much, with Dara having to explain the cultural significance.
Comedians like Dara need life experiences to source their funny so a pandemic of nearly two years rather messed with his creative opportunities. He crafted a particularly personal story but I'm not sure it worked for this audience. I give him credit for going there though.
The final oddity of the night arose as a consequence of the gig overrunning. Dara had started late, at 7.45 pm instead of 7.30 pm, so, as we left, it sounded like the sound person had downed tools, the music abruptly stopping mid-song, leaving us to shuffle out in silence. Way to kill off any post-gig atmosphere.
Ticket price: £23 x2 plus service charge £3.15 and facility charge £1.75 (via Ticketmaster)
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