IT WAS pure chance that I found myself witnessing a performance of the stand-up comedian Dylan Moran at the Garrison Theatre last Friday.
I have to say I was wholly ignorant, but there were mutterings from the “young people” of Shaun of the Dead, a film role and other appearances that meant nothing to me.
Seeing someone without preconceptions can often be a bonus. The name Dylan … Let’s see: there’s Bob Dylan, Dylan Thomas and of course Dylan from The Magic Roundabout. I wonder, are they all named after the rock off the Welsh coast?
Back to the present incumbent. A sell-out crowd buzzed with excitement as a rather dishevelled Dylan Moran took the stage. It was soon evident he was a master at his craft, and presenting it to an audience obviously starved of this form of light entertainment. He started with “Noo dan” and immediately warmed himself with references to sheep and fish. Jokes about Orkney went down well too. Soon the blarney was flowing, a steady stream of wicked funny consciousness.
He covered the differences between Glasgow and Edinburgh. He slagged off the French, Spanish, Italians, Greeks and the English in passing. It was all done in the best possible taste.
With lyrical language full of strong surrealist imagery, some subjects were covered more than others, science for instance – the big bang, then we were all monkeys. It was truly an excellent example of “witteration”. He seemed to think we said “nicky doos”. Even if we don’t we probably should, or that’s the way it seemed.
The night sped along nicely and his momentum was steady, if perhaps going off a little at tangents towards the end. A fine change. An act of this calibre could easily fill the Mareel building as the audience on Friday night bore witness. I’ve always said you have to sit down to appreciate Irish stand-up.
As I moseyed on home it was no wonder that after Dylan Moran’s imaginative set, my mind settled on the story of Peerie Willie sledging on a double bass down towards King Harald Street.