No limits-humour at Tommy Tiernan's Marquee show

Tommy Tiernan refuses to he cancelled. He still manages to sell out every gig he does and Live at the Marquee is no different.

No subject is off limits with the 53-year-old Navan comic. It’s little wonder phones were electronically locked for the duration of the gig. Upon entering the venue, patrons are asked to put their phones on silent in pouches locked with magnetic fasteners. It seems a bit excessive — dare I say paternalistic — but then again, that’s Tommy all over. We play by his rules as he takes us on an unpredictably un-woke romp through topics the politically correct brigade would balk at.

As far as Irish comics go, he is arguably the most successful with longevity that seems to progress infinitely. That’s not to say he shies away from controversy. Rather, he runs towards the taboos and masterfully juxtaposes the light and the dark, pulling you deeper and deeper into his web. Is it uncomfortable there? Yes. Is it offensive? Absolutely. But is it funny? Undoubtedly. At least the Cork audience seems to think so.

That’s not to say some jokes ought not to come with a trigger warning.

In a world that seems to cancel celebrities at the drop of a hat for expressing controversial statements, is there still an appetite for this irreverent brand of tomfoolery? It would certainly appear so from the laughter coming from the Cork crowd.

He tells us of his time in Maynooth training for the priesthood but his ultimate rejection because he was “too sexy for the Bishop”.

A couple of zany interludes are interspersed throughout — a shouty version of The Waterboys ‘The Whole of The Moon’ and the bent-over walk of the local busybody approaching him on the street to tell him “I have no time for you”.

Tommy Tiernan may not allow phones at his gig but he is certainly not afraid of offending. Whether he is profane and offensive is not in question. As he says himself, he has a “holy mind and a dirty mouth”.

His humour is not for everyone. But the Cork audience wedged together on the woefully uncomfortable plastic chairs at the Marquee seem to be having a blast, albeit if their (read: my) middle-aged backs are killing them. They laughed and laughed at subjects that are by no means funny. And none of it was caught on camera. Touché.