By Dylan Moran
:: Dylan Moran
:: ASB Theatre, Aotea Centre, Auckland
:: August 25, 2011
Dylan Moran is a masterclass in melancholy and obscure metaphor.
It was once famously said of Paul Henry that he ‘says what we’re all thinking’, but Moran is like that inner voice saying ‘you smell awful’ we all stifle while shaking someone’s hand and toothily grinning at them.
He’s been to New Zealand three times in the past, but his return is still a welcome one as a packed out ASB Theatre in Auckland showed.
The cigarettes were gone, and he was drinking white wine instead of red, but he’s still the same.
Life, love, youth culture, food, music, politics – all were given the acerbic Moran touch.
The beginning of his set showed an open approach as he talked about trying to learn about New Zealand to incorporate it.
‘How do you do this? By watching the news!’ he explained, before pausing for effect and continuing; “So, I gather there’s a game on.”
This then began a brief, but accurate, explanation of our nation’s obsession with the All Blacks – though his assertions the Irish would beat us at the World Cup because they are ‘lumpy’ may not be quite correct.
There was a brief mention of Christchurch and the earthquake, which initially appeared to be leading toward a punchline. As one, the crowd fell silent. I interpreted it as an intimidating silence, kind of ‘where are you going with this, you better be careful mate’, while my friend instead interpreted the silence as a respectful one.
But he side-stepped any potential awkwardness when it turned out the punchline was related to the London riots and New Zealand’s inability to create looters because we’re ‘too polite’.
An intelligent, respectful approach from a man generally regarded as anti-social and cynical.
That’s not to say those elements are not still present in his comedy. “I like people,” he tried to tell the audience, “y’know, at arm’s length. Once or twice a year.”
His second half was a bit odd – directionless and unscripted it seemed, as he stumbled from gag to gag – but he still, somehow, managed to completely pull it off. Dylan Moran’s mind must be a wonderful thing, as he seemingly created new jokes right there.
His comedy is more character-associated than content – we expect him to be bitter and cynical, and so long as he is, we will laugh. We expect him to be making dark, twisted, crazy metaphors – such as his belief that women are “like the chickpeas under a psychopath's hat. They can be cherishable, and zingy, and surprising, but you ask too many questions and you get killed.”
There is a definite blunt honesty to his delivery which is easy to attach to, such as simply standing on stage and telling the crowd he was going to do the encore now, to save all the walking off stage and coming back.
The only downside to the show was the hecklers. When people are paying $80 to see a comedian, yelling out things like ‘get off the stage you ponce’ is a bit disappointing.
But also a treat. It seems as though Dylan Moran relishes hecklers, and those are the times when that witty silver-tongue of his barbed with razor blades lashes out.
“What other facts do you have for us, gravel out of a microwave is hot?” he directed at one, while a man who refused to get the message and directed four different comments at the stage got “I’m glad you’re here, it gives the folks at home a rest.”
His charm doesn’t line up with what society tells us is charming, yet his combination of intelligence, tour-de-force honesty and a reflective dark nature is endearing.
All those who packed the theatre seemed to thoroughly enjoy of this odd melting pot of mannerisms, and it was fantastic to see Dylan Moran is still a man to be reckoned with.
Ed’s note: This review is by 3news.co.nz journalist Dylan Moran, who is not the same person as the comedian.
3 News