Warnings about what not to do in the presence of Andrew O’Neill put you in mind of safety signs around zoos, which is apt given that his stand-up set is pretty wild and erratic. Attending the show without seeing any publicity I did get something of a surprise when a man in a skirt and gothic jewellery with a better hairstyle than me walked onto the stage. He did of course mention his transvestite style in the act but did not make the entire set about his tights - instead he discussed taxis, posh people, conversations with God and the internet. O’Neill articulates what everyone has felt about their relationship with their computer: the thing you use for work is the gateway to the most distracting thing ever invented.
That is one example of the sharp and uncomfortably accurate observational humour O’Neill comes out with throughout. His style is punchy and makes you laugh at least twice in each sentence, although some of his more rambling moments were a little anti-climactic given the build-up. However, what he was talking about was interesting. There was for example a very insightful rant about why gender comedy is not really funny, needling his own profession and doubtless depriving him of some more obvious jokes.
Admittedly there were some flat moments, as when O’Neill would completely zone out and stare into space accompanied by a soundtrack - it felt very contrived. However he redeemed the joke by never mentioning it and simply continuing where he tailed off, which was inexplicably funny. This was high class observational humour, perhaps let down by being of a similar style throughout, but executed with excellent timing and heaps of charisma.
