David O’Doherty: Whoa is Me
Enmore Theatre, April 26
The enduring enchantment of Irishman David O’Doherty is perhaps troublesome to convey to the unconverted. Here is a musical comic that may’t actually sing and may’t actually play his keyboard. But what an absolute delight an hour with him is.
Not a dour determine at one of the best of occasions, O’Doherty is positively beaming tonight, as he’s simply come out of a COVID lockdown that scuppered the tip of his Melbourne pageant run.
He begins with sequence of small however life-affirming moments: falling asleep on a prepare however waking up proper at your cease, your printer wheezing for all times however in some way limping to the final web page. These vignettes are delivered with unadulterated enthusiasm and underscored by chintzy Casio soundscapes; it’s a heady, heartwarming brew.
His phrase-turning is commonly beautiful, whether or not injecting pretty flashes of lyricism into the on a regular basis, sending his tales on surreal detours or taking self-deprecating potshots at his profession, just like the time his tour unwittingly adopted a psychic venue to venue.
The man’s had a tough couple of years. On high of you-know-what, he had a long-term relationship finish, and he needed to transfer again in along with his infuriatingly loved-up (and amusingly tech-phobic) mother and father. No surprise he grew to become so hooked up to “two-can Tuesday” lockdown meet-ups that he nearly perished one arctic night time.
That story, and others, might finish in woe. Through sheer pressure of character, nonetheless, O’Doherty inevitably locates some strand of optimism in every misadventure. Even an eye-watering medical process has a comic book lesson in his buoyant worldview.
The night time ends with a traditional older track about mice infestation, or does it? He invitations the complete thousand-strong viewers for a pint at a close-by pub. Judging by the nice and cozy response to his each story, the outdated charmer might have drank without cost all night time.