Jarlath Regan
3Olympia, Dublin
★★★★☆
Jarlath Regan arrived on stage at the 3Olympia Theatre with shoulders relaxed and a broad smile.
The creator of hit podcast An Irishman Abroad is currently embarking on the first dates of his new comedy tour Yer Man – including four sold-out shows in Dublin.
It’s his decade-long podcast, featuring interviews with high-profile Irish figures, that’s brought him here, as well as his huge online audience. He now has almost a quarter of a million followers on Instagram alone.
One Ballsbridge review: Can Oliver Dunne break the curse of this Dublin 4 dining room?
Why are we getting condensation on our new triple-glazed windows?
100 great restaurants, cafes and places to eat in Ireland 2024
I had my kids in my mid-20s, which was unheard of among women of my class and generation
Regan, now approaching his mid-forties, recently moved back to Ireland with his family after 10 years living in the UK. His relief at no longer needing to decipher our British cousins’ strange ways appears immediately palpable.
Tonight is something of a full-circle moment as he gazes out into a sea of faces at a historic venue he later reveals he’s previously never had the good fortune to play.
The Irishman at Home begins with a riff on “biblical hangovers”, admitting he’s been drunk in this room “more times than I care to remember”.
It’s standard fare of course, but listing the topics – or even the punchlines – wouldn’t do justice to the impeccable rhythm and delivery involved.
As well as a slick stage presence, Regan also has a well-above-average ear for people’s turns of phrase, affecting their tone, wording and even accents with impressive fluidity. He is a keen observer in all senses of the word.
He elicits laughs over his corrections of his son’s plummy English tones – “Mirror, not ‘meer’. Myrrh’s what you give the baby Jesus!” – and nails Ryan Tubridy’s defiant demeanour at the Public Accounts Committee: “I don’t even know what money is, I just tap my card.”
Regan may not be exactly breaking the mould with his traditional tropes about parenting, families and Irish society, but his observational comedy has grown bold and brave enough in recent years to now incorporate riffs on US politics, RTÉ and the 24-hour news cycle.
The sincerity, warmth and genuine skill with which he delivers occasionally hackneyed material about men being children and women nags, also makes any perceived missteps palatable.
The goal here is to entertain, and that he does while making it all look like a total breeze.
Audience interaction is also seemingly effortless after so many years honing his craft, though he appears far too nice to be properly cutting to any rowdy ticket holders.
He is like a lovely parent at your child’s school who seems far too well-adjusted to be a comedian, yet somehow excels at it
There’s some lively chat about people’s worst gifts from long-time partners, including one woman who wants to keep discussing her polyester pillows long after the moment has ended.
“A punchline is being set up here,” he explains politely, later becoming genuinely embarrassed during a joke about failing to do ‘dirty talk’ with his wife right: “I literally blush every time I say this.”
He is like a lovely parent at your child’s school who seems far too well-adjusted to be a comedian, yet somehow excels at it.
A solid hour of laughs whizzes by, with enough time in change for a debrief over a couple of drinks for those he empathises with for having to leave their kids in the care of “local teens”. Or worse, parents they fundamentally disagree with over child-rearing.
“My first ever Olympia. I will never ever forget this,” he says with sincerity after a performance where he never falters once. It’s good to have him back.
