Review: Marvellous Moran gives a masterclass
Comedy: Dylan Moran Vicar St, Dublin
Dylan Moran is now 43, but a surprisingly large portion of the audience are in their 20s.
Moran remains an evergreen household name and a bit of a national treasure by simply sticking to his guns. Earlier this year, he revealed the constant conveyor belt of comedians appearing on panel shows completely horrifies him.
Moran throws a sucker punch straight at the start, rather than his tried-and-tested tactic of luring you in gently. Within moments, he hilariously lambastes Enda Kenny, Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump, and every single politician on the planet.
His gag about the former is deliciously timely, but unfortunately, it is much too crude and potentially libellous to share in a family newspaper. This frustration certainly chimes with the current contempt society has for politicians, but it is a hilarious and reflective routine rather than angry.
Moran still looks endearingly dishevelled as he sips from a glass of wine, but the chain-smoking anarchic messiness of his 20s is a distant memory. The gags are sharper and take no prisoners.
Moran's anger at what he beautifully calls the "poncification" of society is a joy, as he tells a story about going into a trendy coffee shop and getting into an altercation with a barista.
Moran tackles family life, reaching middle age, and making sense of the 21st century in his own inimitable way.
While he has lived in Scotland with his wife and young family for years, you seemingly can't take Navan out the man, as he makes one or two astute comments about his Meath upbringing.
Moran has a rare gift that has improved with age. He is funnier, sharper and more entertaining than ever before, and also arguably the greatest living comedian we have.