Making fun of it all

Dara Ó Briain’s Irish wit is loved in England where he is a big hit as a TV host, but stand-up is his first love, writes Carl Dixon

IT IS a measure of the high profile of stand-up comedy that Dara Ó Briain will be one of the highlights at this summer’s Live at the Marquee concerts in Cork. It is a measure of Ó Briain’s popularity that, despite his recent sellout run at the Opera House, he is likely to again sell out his gigs on Jun 28 and 29.

Ireland has produced many successful comedians, but Ó’Briain has trumped them all by moving into mainstream television in the UK, where his fast-paced patter and quick wit are a hit. He hosts, or has hosted, Mock the Week, The Apprentice: You’re Fired!, and Stargazing Live, and has travelled Britain and Ireland in the popular BBC series Three Men in a Boat with Rory McGrath and Griff Rhys Jones. In Ireland, he kept the mayhem in check as the host of The Panel.

One reviewer said Ó Briain resembled an amiable brontosaurus, and his considerable size is striking. Coming it at 6ft 4 in, he dominates whatever space he is in, and he is similar to the amusing and engaging persona he projects on stage.

Although Ó Briain is probably best known in the UK for his television work, he still sees stand-up comedy as his main occupation.

“It may seem like an empty platitude, but if you are doing 150 days a year, it needs to be your first love,” he says. “Part of the attraction is that the authorship of the show is yours alone, and thus the gamble is also on your shoulders.

“I suppose, like most comedians, I am still chasing that adrenaline shot. Being in front of 4,000 people is a great way of staying in the now and there is a type of purity to that. As you perform, you have an internal barometer that continually measures and gauges the mood of the audience.

“There are moments when you know that the audience is enjoying a sketch and is travelling along a path with you. You know what is coming next and they don’t, and you really look forward to dropping the next bomb. It is not a job that you can realistically do without an adrenaline rush.”

In 2009, Ó Briain wrote a travel book, Tickling the English, which poked mild fun at the eccentricities of the English nation and he has a genuine affection for his adopted country.

“From a comedic viewpoint, we do tend to talk about how brilliant we are in Ireland, but it could be argued that we have relatively few strings to our bow,” he says. “Certainly, we are good storytellers. At a pinch, we can claim credit for Spike Milligan, but we don’t have a tradition of surreal, language-based comedy, for example.

“Of course, it is also a numbers game and in the UK things are played out on a bigger scale. You are more removed from your targets and you aren’t as worried about insulting your neighbours or friends. The Panel works well in Ireland because we all know each other and we all know each other’s business. But it wouldn’t work in the UK, where they like a formal structure with points and rules and plot devices to justify the jokes. Structure is considered more important and that’s probably a reflection of a more structured society in some ways.”

Ó Briain was born in Bray, Co Wicklow, and studied mathematics and theoretical physics in UCD. His media career began as a children’s presenter on RTÉ, which included a stint as a bilingual presenter on Echo Island. During this period, he began the slow process of carving out a career as a stand-up. He recalls driving to Donegal to play for six people, but persistence and a heavy touring schedule brought him to the public’s notice and his was the biggest-selling comedy show in the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2005. Since then he has become established as one of the UK’s top comedians and his quick-witted interactions with his live audience have become a trademark of his shows.

While knowledge of theoretical physics may not be a prerequisite for successful comedy, Ó Briain is a self-confessed rationalist with a strong belief in scientific principles. Various forms of alternative theory and quackery come in for considerable scorn in his shows.

“I was almost running out of targets in the alternative world, but then the astrologers joyfully offered themselves up for slaughter,” he says.

“Someone once suggested that my show could be called Whimsy and Misadventure and that does describe the tone of the shows. Attacking alternative targets does give the material an extra edge and is a useful arrow to have in the comedy quiver. Having said that, I genuinely don’t believe in treatments like homeopathy. It is supposed to work on two principles: namely that like cures like and that the more you dilute a substance the more effective it becomes. Now, anyone who has drunk MiWadi can tell you that the more water you add the weaker the drink gets.”

Although nominally a Catholic, Ó Briain is staunchly atheist. He sees Catholicism as a sort of ethnic club with a collection of common reference points. For example, you may not believe in God, but you still hate Rangers football club. “I don’t have any feel for religion. In my heart there is just nothing there and so it is a subject on which my emotional response and rational beliefs converge,” he says. “There is a saying that there are no atheists in a foxhole but that seems a poor philosophical basis for any religion. That you would believe when in danger and then promptly recover once saved.”

The emergence of comedy as a mainstream force in the UK has pushed the comedians into the limelight and perhaps there is a danger that comedy will lose its critical edge. “Certainly, of all trades we need to be coruscating about ourselves,” Ó Briain says. “Perhaps there is a danger that we will become complacent, but there are probably 40 to 50 comedians who can sell out big venues and that is a huge step forward for anyone trying to develop a career in a tough business.”

Ó’Briain keeps his private life separate from his professional life and despite his popularity has been largely successful in doing so. Living in London gives him anonymity that he might not have in Ireland.

Once described as Terry Wogan’s heir apparent — a title not altogether to his liking — the English appreciate his take on life and his innate charm. “I think the comparison with Terry Wogan is pretty nonsensical, really, as we do very different things,” he says.

“Certainly, fame in the UK is much less intimate and I am happy to avoid the sort of untouchable, instantly recognisable type of fame that attaches to Ant and Dec, for example.

“I am not sure how the English see me, really. I do remind them that I am not English, fairly often, but perhaps to some degree they forget that I am actually not one of them.”

* Dara Ó Briain, Live at the Marquee on Jun 28 and 29.