Dylan Moran at Vicar Street. Pronounced Moren, the Oirish way, ever so close to Moron, the Aussie way. Fans of
Black Books flock together, and Dylan maintains the persona of hate and spite very well, even challenging some drunk and chattering blondes to ‘evolve’. They moved. At times strangely reminiscent of Billy Connolly, without all the clean dirties, he’s nonetheless nicely surreal at times in the baroque Oirish way of wild paradox. Nearly Wildean. Themes ranging from couples, drinking (and the horrors of gin), the Oirish overseas, fat Americans, inner potential and ageing, hotels, all actors are tossers etc. Almost standard comedic fare, in retrospect, but served smug and smoking. See
this fanpage for a sample, which actually sums up much of the show. Favoured insult: ‘why don’t you just die.’ And some original cartoons as background — a little distracting, attention wavering, as though Dylan doesn’t want to do this for much longer (apparently there's a book in the works). It would’ve been fun if he lampooned the Anglified Oirish who make big bucks in the UK and then come back to make jokes about the BBC. Oh, what ironic potential therein. But he’s still very likeable. Sim said, almost handsome.
