Swarms of people have descended on the Iveagh Gardens for the Vodafone Comedy Festival this weekend. There’s a great buzz and atmosphere about the place: bands playing, beer swilling, and bellies hurting with, presumably, the laughter to be had here.
The Jokeshop Tent, one of the smaller of the four tents, is packed with an eager and enthusiastic crowd. Opening proceedings is MC, Colm McDonnell, a slightly hyperactive hobbit creature (his words) with a weird fascination for bumper cars. The perfect host, he rallies the crowd with some obligatory “cheer for your county” call-outs and the singling out of a lone American tourist. It’s not long before he has the crowd suitably prepared for what lies ahead.
First up are Foil, Arms and Hog, a wickedly absurd sketch comedy trio with a penchant for the darker sides of the Irish psyche. Seriously impressive, they’ve put together a routine so mixed and diverse that it’s impossible to pigeonhole – and it’s all the better for it. Ranging from “seductive” ads for the (thankfully fictional) dating site Gaelic Flirt to parodies of certain ridiculous iPhone apps, the three guys – Sean Flanagan, Conor McKenna and Sean Finegan – hit everything from surrealism to slapstick on the way.
They’re great at taking something inherently Irish and giving it a genuinely bizarre twist – such as a touching yet disturbing necrophiliac version of Steve Earle’s Galway Girl – but they’ve a broad enough appeal to avoid becoming too localised. Confident in their act, these guys clearly enjoy what they do, and, judging by the audience reaction, they’re not alone.
Part history lecture, part financial problem-solver, headliner O’Regan’s “Dislike: A Facebook Guide To The Recession” outlines the build-up to the Irish crisis and a selection of possible solutions through the medium of social networking – only it’s way funnier than that actually sounds. O’Regan’s profile is steadily on the up: his laidback and quick-witted humour, coupled with a relaxed and instantly likeable charm, make him one of the rising stars on the scene. (Insert Facebook “Like” joke here).
A simple concept, but well executed. O’Regan condenses the past 100,000 years of Irish history – druids, failed uprisings and Celtic Tiger cocaine parties – into a series of brilliant Facebook status updates and comments, poking (no pun intended) fun at both himself and the whole country. The undeserved modesty of GAA players, the evils of property developers, and typical Irish mammy behaviour all come under fire: it’s something everyone here – apart maybe from that lone tourist – can relate to.
Steering clear of controversy, for the most part, O’Regan taps into a sense of nostalgia and acknowledgement of our own general stupidity which can’t help but get the crowd going. While a lot of this is straight-forward, effortless humour, if that’s not too offencive, when he does stray into more unconventional territory, the room really lights up. A recital from his Mills and Boon-type novel Permission To Build, License To Love, is the first genuinely hilarious moment of the set and shows a different side to the comedian (who has a handy career in erotic literature to fall back on if this comedy lark doesn’t work out).
Running swiftly out of time, the show wraps up quickly to a bout of warm and eager applause for the three acts who took to the stage. It’s been a highly enjoyable evening that has basically served to reaffirm the incredible strangeness of this small island and its people. Judging by what we saw, that can only be a good thing.
By Orlaith Grehan.
