Ardal O’Hanlon
His observations were smile-funny rather than belly-laugh funny, but smiling is better than scowling. If he prefers to keep his routines light and, dare I say, inconsequential, then he has every right to.
It’s always the way. You wait all year to see an Irish comedian who has broken his ankle, and then two turn up at once. Last week, Vittorio Angelone regaled the Playhouse with his thoughts on the Troubles he was too young to have experienced, while resting in an armchair. Ardal O’Hanlon managed to stay upright and steered clear of politics in an evening of gentle humour that felt more like banter in a pub with your funniest mate.
He did have a pop at Trump, to be fair, painting pictures of his worm-infested head that I now can't exorcise from mine, but otherwise this was a night of well-rehearsed digressions and faux distractions. The conceit of his latest show is that he never gets round to starting it.
"I'll start the show in a minute," he kept saying, "but just let me get this off my chest."
What got off his chest were the pitfalls of being a third child, allergy warnings, customer feedback, avocados, cauliflowers, and on and on. His observations were smile-funny rather than belly-laugh funny, but smiling is better than scowling. When his routine veered into the territory of towel animals and complicated shower controls, it did speak of a man who spends more time in hotels than his audience does, something he should perhaps reflect on. The accompanying towel animal photos were a helpful guide explaining what upset him so, but this was hardly the sort of material to resonate with the common man.
Far better was his description of middle-aged men playing football in the face of impending mortality. There was a substance to his observation of how men relive their childhood that seemed within his grasp, but which he let go in favour of buying inappropriate books on Amazon — material that obviously wasn't true. Ardal O’Hanlon is a charming man and very good company, but I do wish he had focused more on topics that had some truth to them. I get the sense that he finds it easy to be quite funny, and has discovered that’s all he needs to be.
His bizarre closing segment, where he revealed his meeting with the Pope, was both touching and funny, but also curiously frustrating. There was a picture of O’Hanlon getting the Pope to bless the rosary beads of his parents, despite no longer being a Catholic. There was a clever callback to no longer being the unloved third child, but there was so much more that must have been left unsaid. His private life is, of course, just that. If he prefers to keep his routines light and, dare I say, inconsequential, then he has every right to. His seemingly disparate ruminations were in fact tightly constructed, with a recursive commentary threaded through the evening with a precise elegance not to be dismissed. I just wish he'd made me think more and given me more than a few chuckles to take away.
