DAVID O’Doherty is the perfect antidote to much of modern comedy – but he’s so good it may not stay that way.
An evening watching the genial Irishman is the comedy equivalent of inviting a good friend into your lounge for tea and cake in front of the fire.
Forget the skipping, bland observationalists, or the offensive for offensive’s sake type comedians, this is comfortable, intimate, friendly, great fun.
This is a comedian who was so concerned that some of the audience members were feeling a draught that he came out after the interval and handed his own jumper to one of them to try to keep them warm.
Though this was O’Doherty’s first time in Southampton, many of the audience had seen him before. Having been to four of his previous Edinburgh shows myself I knew what to expect and he certainly didn’t disappoint with a two-hour set whose theme was loosely the break-up of a relationship but took in the recession, squash, mice, and a whole lot else.
O’Doherty’s trademark is his songs, and they were, as ever, beautifully crafted and masterfully performed on his children’s plastic keyboard.
But the biggest laughs of the night were reserved for his book of sex tips picked up from a dentist’s waiting room.
This was O’Doherty on top form.
All those in attendance knew this guy deserves to be absolutely massive, but, selfishly, you don’t want to ruin this wonderful secret.
Recommend him, but go careful who you tell.