Swedes proudly boast that the word lagom cannot be translated, but the Irish cheekily go one better – not only can the word craic not be adequately translated into any other language, it can barely even be explained in its native Gaelic.
It is something that has to be experienced, and the best way to do so is to see Irish comedian and self-proclaimed “craic dealer” Dara O’Briain live, as 1200 paying punters did on May 4 at a sold-out Chinateatern.
Over the course of two hours the Stockholm audience was given a crash course in craic, and though it should never be confused with the similar-sounding drug, it is equally addictive.
A mix of fun, mischief, laughter and banter, the 44-year-old motor-mouth delivered pure craic by the bucketload, including not one but two encores as the Stockholm audience lapped up his every word.
Making no apologies for his fast talking – his advice to those who couldn’t keep up was to “listen faster” – O’Briain hit the ground running, recounting his experiences from places like Tromsö, Dubai and Bournemouth on his current mammoth tour.
Most great comedians are builders, carefully laying out the bricks as they construct their show, but O’Briain is a weaver, his sharp intellect pulling together diffuse strands into a rich tapestry of the absurd, occasionally going back and tugging on a long-forgotten thread.
And while other comedians worry that the audience will knock over their carefully-built constructions, O’Briain famously welcomes audience interaction, peppering the front rows with questions about their lives before riffing away on them, from taking the temperature of random customers and items at a newsagents to the lair being built near Arlanda for a Bond villain by a nipple-ringed Irish engineer.
Armed with a razor-sharp intellect that makes improvising easy, O’Briain’s is equally at home with his incisive scripted material, which is delivered with laser-like precision and timing. Occasionally, he even lifts the hood to allow the audience a tantalising glimpse at the mechanics of his art.
For instance, he explains why certain jokes need to have two or more punch-lines in certain towns he plays in, while in others the crowd is laughing before he even gets to the first one.
Well-known for his interest in mathematics and science, the second part of the show was dedicated to the workings of the human brain, and it is a credit to the audience that they managed to keep up as he bandied complex psychological terms such as anthropomorphism about as if he were lecturing undergrads.
But perhaps the most underrated part of his act is his physical comedy and though he doesn’t rely on movement much to make his point, when he does it is devastatingly effective – in particular when channeling the more “Latino” aspects of the people of northern Norway and when illustrating how elbows came to be banned from resting on tables.
O’Briain’s performance was the latest in a long line of events put together by comedy promoter Shownight, who continue to bring the best international comedic talent to Sweden.
Here’s hoping for their sake, and indeed for O’Brian’s, that craic dealing remains legal in Sweden for the foreseeable future.
Words: Phil O’Connor
