Latitude review: Dara O’Briain

Making his debut appearance at a music festival, it’s almost difficult to recognise Dara O’Briain without his trademark suit; many of the crowd here will likely never have seen O’Briain from the waist down before.

But far from being a fish out of water under the purple swathes of the Comedy Arena, O’Briain immediately, and consistently, has the crowd in the palm of his hand.

It’s a rare treat to see him doing his own material, rather than orchestrating panel shows, and it’s a tightly-spun reminder of how he came to be at the forefront of the British comedy scene.

Conversational, but ever-engaging, O’Briain wields a unique skill; the ability to hold a crowd’s affection despite refusing to pander to easy comedy targets.

A voice of integrity and reason, he manages hilarious, amiable and straight-talking all at once, even when firmly pointing out how ridiculous things we’ve come to blasély accept are.

No-nonsense he may be, but O’Briain maintains a poetic stance in his storytelling, particularly during a bit in which he builds up his recent act of life-saving heroism, involving the crowd in a casual, sharp-witted bit of banter.

There’s no question that O’Briain is a star, but happily has not been content to rest on his comedy laurels.

Nor is he above making fun of himself, dissecting the “two deaths” of media personalities, in light of the recent Yewtree scandal, and recanting being mistaken for Al Murray.

Closing his set by inviting an unescorted 12 year old “legend” to share his limelight, O’Briain shows he boasts impressive improvisational talents to boot; Zach may be the man of the moment, but O’Briain more than proves himself to be the star of the show.