View from the Green Room: Tyres, accents and kids in jammies
Comedian Jarlath Regan
Jarlath Regan arrives on stage and he’s drop dead cool. The stage is his space and he paces the landscape as if he owns it. Hand cradling the mike, eyes roaming around the house and a smile that would melt a traffic warden’s heart who is just short of one ticket for his bonus. This comic understands the dynamic of communication. He pauses, stops, stares as he searches for kindred spirits. And there’s plenty here in this audience that have paused on their way through snowflake.
He’s well known to this sell-out thirties-something audience from his podcasts An Irishman Abroad and he’s already sold out four shows in Dublin. His podcasts, that sometimes feature well-known Irish luminaries, has a huge online audience and his Instagram account alone has a quarter of a million followers.
He’s just returned after a decade in the UK and he’s got some timely observations for these millenials. There’s a posher up-yer-ass generation here that’s ripe for plucking. “Ah… you all know them” says he, “they ride in Teslas and snack in Avoca and holiday in Central Parks although the rides are OMG SOOO EXPENSIVE… but it doesn’t matter because they’re all mortgage-free now don’t-ye-know.”
The observations trip off the tongue in a note-perfect performance what would be a masterclass for any young comic. Topics weave seamlessly into the performance. His son’s plummy English accent really concerns him and he feels it’s beyond time to take the wind out of Junior’s sails with some home truths before he joins secondary school. “It’s mirror,” says he not, “myrhh” – that’s what you give the baby Jesus!
He’s alarmed at the changes. “I mean,” says he “where did all this sea-swimming and Gaelic football and feckin’ gum-shields for God's sake come out of? Dry-robers come in for a fair bit of stick and I note the discomfort around me. He’s well up on the RTÉ celebs saga and flip-flops go down a treat. An impression of an uncomfortable Joeeee Dufffffy goes down a treat as Joe squirms in his seat knowing he’s on some €360k for his daily whinge-fest. His attempts to watch Love/Hate on the RTÉ International Player has heads nodding in agreement.
He’s really touching base with his audience when he moves to the topic of rearin’ kids. “Babysitters!” says he “their only qualification is that they live nearby!” and then recounts his own experiences when he asked a father was it alright to go home when the kids were in bed? And then launches into graphic detail about his unannounced journey in the boot of his father’s car as his parents went down for a few in the local. Jarlath’s journey and arrival into the pub in his jammies wasn’t quite what Daddy was expectin’. Still… no matter. He picked him up, put him under his arm and brought him home before returning to the pub. Ahhhh… those sepia days when everything was innocent.
He’s into the USA election now and it would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic. “Is this the best that the richest country in the world has to offer?... a lunatic power-hungry idiot and a dothering octogenarian that barely knows where he is."
Role play with his wife is hilarious. When he rocks up in an overalls with toolkit at her request, she gives him long-promised jobs to attend to. Bit of an anti-climax you might think. He’s wondering about totally inappropriate presents for wives and asks for suggestions.
“A power-washer… post it notes from Aldi... and a set of tyres.” Everyone laughs in horror at the idiocy of such generous gifts. But then… but then… I’m remembering a set of tyres that I once bestowed on my good wife for her birthday. Although I still think it was a good idea, I must acknowledge that my then teenage daughters didn’t talk to me for a week. All bad ideas have to have some upside.
Jarlath began at 8.45pm and didn’t take a moment’s hesitation for over 90 minutes. A great night’s comedy on the Mall.
