IT'S only a hundred yards from the Comedy Cellar in Wicklow Street, where Ardal O'Hanlon first performed, to the Olympia in Dame Street, where he played last night. But it might as well be a hundred different comedy countries away - never mind being paid a hundred times more than he used to be in the Cellar.

Obviously, the leap in stature unnerved the affable Monaghan comedian. He plodded through the first few minutes, wide eyed in his new Victorian surrounds, and was somewhat nervy of approach. Once settled, though, he moved through the gears and cave us a delightful guided tour of his own particular comedy landscape.

Very much post modern, if you'll excuse my French, he mixed traditional style tales of home and hearth (stories about linen and table cloths) with fresher and funkier stuff about cocaine, condoms and sex (shame on him).

What really impressed, though - and it is an aspect of his work that he should considerably beef up - was the caustic nature of some of the material. Perversely, even though O'Hanlon's great strength is his one and very likeable stage persona, he should really go for the jugular more often.

A special mention for an excellent support slot by local comic Mark Doherty -- it's his turn next.