Dara O Briain Live

By James ShackellĀ Dara O Briain

The old adage ā€˜You get what you pay forā€™ isnā€™t always true at the Comedy Festival. Some of the best gigs Iā€™ve ever seen cost less than youā€™d pay for two bowls of ramen, while occasionally headline acts at The Town Hall and Hi-Fi bar have left me underwhelmed, bitter and vengeful. So when an international star like Dara Oā€™Briain rocks up at Hamer Hall for two shows only, charging $70 – $80 a head, the value-seeker inside me wants him to be next level funny. So hilarious that I would willingly sacrifice a dozen bowls of ramen, if only to spend another hour in his company. Measured against those lofty standards, Dara O Briain was worth every cent.

Heā€™s just a complete pro. Thereā€™s no other word for it. From the moment he bounds onto the stage, 8ft tall, bald and boggle-eyed, the sounds of Basement Jaxxā€™s ā€˜Do Your Thingā€™ pumping in the background, heā€™s got the audience right where he wants them. He doesnā€™t let go for the next two hours.

As someone who grew up watching Dara on QI and Mock The Week, Iā€™d always considered him solid and quick-witted, a good addition to any panel, but never the genuine standout. On stage though heā€™s unshackled from the quiz show format, free to do what he does best: ramble, stutter, gesticulate and bounce off the audience, his Irish tongue tangling itself in his trademark style, words fusing and colliding between his teeth. In fact itā€™s his high-energy audience participation that gets some of the nightā€™s biggest laughs. ā€œThe front row are always in I.T.ā€ he moans, before discovering (with genuine delight) a gravedigger, a debt collector and a guide for Launcestonā€™s tram museum, one after the other. ā€œDo you have a favourite tram?ā€ Dara asks the guy, only half ironically, ā€œDo you save it for the end of the tour?ā€

The material itself, on paper, isnā€™t anything mind-blowing. Thereā€™s some stuff there on the taxonomy of the humble koala, a few gentle digs at Sydney that get a rise from the Melbourne crowd, and anecdotes about the misunderstandings that arise when youā€™re moderately famous (a story about hijacking a strangerā€™s camera for a celeb selfie, was particularly good). But honestly, when youā€™re this confident, and your timing is this sweet, the substance of the jokes doesnā€™t really matter. Iā€™d happily sit and listen to Dara talk for 60 minutes on the merits and drawbacks of his favourite socks. His talent is storytelling, and connecting with a crowd, and he does those things better than most of the big-name acts Iā€™ve seen. Start saving those pennies now ā€“ with any luck heā€™ll be back in a year or two.

Dara O Briain’s run has finished

https://www.comedyfestival.com.au/2017/shows/dara-o-briain