Irish comics cut the Fringe

THERE'S always some old git sitting in a pub, mumbling into his pint that "The Fringe isn't what it used to be" and this year that old git is me.

Ardal (bless him) nods his head in agreement and we're reminiscing like a pair of sad old luvvies about the good ol' days on the Fringe when you used to hitchhike over from Dublin, sleep on someone's floor, not eat for three In those days Ardal used to play to audiences of three people (and be grateful for it) but this year he's getting, the full stretch limo jacuzzi "would sir like so cocaine and then have sex with supermodel" treatment. We conclude that the Fringe has indeed got "too bloody corporate" and there's too many managers, publicists, booking agents, television producers and eh, journalists clogaging up the streets, the venues, the pubs and turning the whole she-bang into one big schmoozefest. This is supposed to be The Fringe, it's supposed to be cutting edge and subversive and all of that. Now it just seems to be populated by careerist comics who would gleefully commit genocide to get their own Channel 4 sit com.

But then we spot Tommy Tiernan, a great new comic from Navan and he comes over to tell his heart warming, confidence restoring story: it's 10 p.m. on Sunday night and Tommy has just arrived in Edinburgh. Earlier that morning he had a lunchtime gig in Kilkenny, then he got on a coach to Dublin, got the cheap flight to Prestwick, outside Glasgow, spent another few hours in a train and arrived just in time for his heat of the So You Think You're Funny competition. He doesn't know where's he staying (we helpfully suggest a bench in the train station) and is a bit freaked out by the gig, doesn't know what material to use etc; but then he quietly surveys his surroundings and says "this is my first time playing the Edinburgh Festival" in the tone of voice that Muslims probably use when they arrive in Mecca.

Tommy's up against seven British comics in his heat tonight and if he wins he gets through to the final next week. We go with him to the gig to give him some moral support, applaud wildly for the whole seven minutes he's on and then wait around anxiously to see if he wins. He does. He's thrilled. And so are we. Without getting too Little House On The Prairie about it, this really is what the Fringe is all about.

The So You Think You're Funny competition is the big talking point of Edinburgh 96. Basically it's the baby Perrier award and is an attempt to discover the comedy superstars of tomorrow. From last April onwards, 500 comics competed in regional heats in Glasgow, Newcastle, Birmingham, London etc; and now they're whittled down to eight groups of eight. The first person through to the final was Dubliner John Henderson, the second person through to the final was Co Louth comic Patrick McDonnell and now that Tommy is through, it means that there's at least three Irish comics: through to the final and get this, there's an Irish comic still to go in each of the remaining five heats. The British comics sneer and have renamed the competition, So You Think You're Irish and there's a piece in the Scotsman newspaper the next day about "all these pretty boy (sic) Irish comics just out of university (sic) getting up on stage" and a well known British comic, who doesn't want his name to be used in case people think he's anti Irish, says "the worst few words you an hear when you're in the dressing room before a gig, is the compere saying: and now for a new comic from Ireland because you know you have to go on after him and if they're as good as Dylan Moran, Sean Hughes or Ardal O'Hanlon, and these new ones seem to be, you just haven't a hope".

On the 50th anniversary of the Fringe, the Irish are storming the show. Just to put this in context: The Fringe, by itself, is the biggest arts festival in the world - there's 9,000 performers doing 1,200 shows in 187 venues over a three week period - and was set up in 1946 to encourage artistic "freedom and enterprise ... to explore new ideas, to push the boundaries of art", In years past, the Fringe launched the careers of people like Tom Stoppard, Robin Williams, Emma Thompson, Derek Jacobi and Billy Connolly. It has now being effectively hijacked by the stand ups and in the past few years has brought us Eddie Izzard, Jo Brand, Sean Hughes and Jack Dee.

TIME to go talent spotting and catch up on how the Irish are doing: we start with the wonderful Dylan Moran. Dylan (24) from Navan, was a big hit last year and his new show is packing them in. Sample gag: "Women see things that men don't see, like dirt, bargains and relatives". Dylan's got a great take on the increasing "corporate" nature of the Fringe: "It's just one long, suffering, death throe, spun out for three weeks among a bunch of rabid, grasping, sweaty, awful, money sucking people and equally graping, competitive, envious, sniping, biting, bitchy idiots with insecurity problems and a desperate need to justify their existence". That's nothing, you should hear him when he's drunk.

Up to see Dubliner Graham Norton who television viewers will know as the priest who stole the show in the last series of Father Ted, he also presents ITV's sex quiz show, Carnal Knowledge. Graham's material on gay sex is brilliantly funny but unfortunately not a bit of it is printable, except this: "Why do straight men go to gay bars? So they can get a decent blow job". Ho ho. He's a natural born entertainer.

Ed Byrne (24, from Swords in Dublin) is having a great Fringe. Last year he was part of the Young, Gifted and Green trio but this year he's got his own solo show and tongues are wagging in important places about Ed's performance. Very much an indie comic, he runs through material about drink, drugs and sex (and why not?). Sample gag: "I'm 24, I'm feeling old. When I do gigs around the country and the promoters book me into B'n'B's, I find myself using both the B's".

Scotland On Sunday paper has put Ed on its "Priority list" and believe me, that's a lot more important than it sounds. There's loads more: Kevin Gildea (exmember of Mr. Trellis) is doing great stuff in his Get Up show and if you want to see how gritty and grungey stand up can be transformed into an art form, Kevin's your only man.

The Nualas have just arrived in town, carrying charming tales about the lack of "a good shag" in their rural Irish town and Dubliner Alex Lyons has already won the Poster of the Fringe award. Meanwhile the Alternative Ulster comics from Belfast (Colin Murphy and Jake Junior) are impressing everyone with their in-yer-face political set - the routine on "the etiquette of rioting" being a particular stand out.

BUT the real Irish star of the Fringe this year is the revelation from Louth mentioned above, Patrick McDonnell. He appeared out of nowhere on the Dublin circuit a few months back and he's got tons of raw talent. Patrick is part of the Gael Force Three show, along with Tommy Tiernan and Gerry Mallon (from Galway). When Patrick takes to the stage, he pauses for a few minutes, then grabs the microphone and utters the immortal opening line: "I was born with a big head" - what transpires over the next 20 minutes, from his big head to running with new born calves in the field, to tales about the Prodigy hijacking a Dublin bus, is stunning. Everyone is talking about Patrick this year, and all the British and the US comics were particularly taken by his interview in a local paper after be had won his heat of So You Think You're Funny. The interviewer asked Patrick was he thrilled by his victory and he replied in his thick Louth accent: "To be honest with you, I wasn't. I was more thrilled getting the Ryanair flight over today, because it was my first time on an aeroplane". This story is true and it's worth remembering that Patrick is 28 years of age. He's a star.

And there's loads more to come: even though Ardal is gone from the Perrier (eliminated for being "too famous" a martyr!), there is tons of Irish interest in the So You Think You're Funny final on Sunday night (to be judged by Vie Reeves and Bob Mortimer - hurrah for that). Interestingly enough, the winner of SYTYF will carry off a bigger cash prize (£1,500) than Sean Hughes did when he won the adult Perrier in 1990 (£1,000).

It's all been a blast and a half Maybe the Fringe isn't what it used to be, but sometimes it's better than it ever has been. Go for it Patrick.