David O’Doherty is working through some things right now. Alright, it’s probably closer to a lot of things.

His current festival show, Big Time, has undergone some massive changes, and the Irish comedian is unsure where it may end up, thanks in no small part to the unpredictable nature of the world around him.

“This show started out as an hour – now it’s two,” he says. “I started writing this show when I was out with [Flight Of The] Concords, where we were playing to something like 15,000 a night. It had inspired me to write this really big, really silly sort of show. That, of course, was interrupted by the rise of fascism. It keeps interfering in my life. You try and do this dumb, fun show with all of these jokes, and the audiences in the UK and in France are like, ‘That’s all well and good, but soon we could all be in a forced labour camp being worked to death.’”

Among a myriad of influences, one of the key players behind Big Time has been the impact of children on O’Doherty’s life. Not his own, mind you, but the readership that have taken to his stories like Ronan Long Gets It Wrong and Danger Is Everywhere: A Handbook For Avoiding Danger.

“I’ve obviously done a lot of touring as a stand-up comic, but more recently I’ve released a series of children’s books. I’ve been playing music and doing shows for kids in libraries and bookstores and stuff, and their heckles are some of the most existential that I’ve ever come across. They don’t just come out and say, ‘You’re bad,’ they question your entire existence. ‘Why are you doing this? What is the point of you? Why are you shouting?’

“I think this show is the combination of trying to write a show for grown-ups and having all of these existential, philosophical questions being thrown at you by eight-year-old children. It continues to evolve, but I think that’s where the show is at the moment. I’m just trying to dig up a little bit of hope, really.”

O’Doherty, who has been performing his unique brand of Yamaha-wielding comedy for around 18 years, has seen a lot of changes in the world since his last show. Big Time is his chance to let audiences escape from that for a little while – or at least, that’s what it was to begin with.

“It’s a weird time in the UK,” says O’Doherty, in what might already be a contender for the year’s biggest understatement. “It’s always a weird time in Ireland, what with our bleak history and our inability to escape from it. The UK has left the EU, so all of the stability that came post-war has been completely thrown into jeopardy. No one knows what’s going to happen next. It wouldn’t be all that surprising if the currency collapsed or something like that. Everyone will be walking around with wheelbarrows filled with money in order to pay for milk.

“When I started writing this show, there were jokes about Pokémon Go and fucking selfie sticks. Now, no one gives a shit about any of it. The vibe is just constantly like, ‘We might die!’ There’s no Pikachu to be found in this show now.”

Comics like O’Doherty know better than anyone about the catch 22 that arises when attempting to perform comedy in hard times. Do you disconnect entirely from it in order to keep the performance as an escape, or do you hold up a mirror through your medium and remind audiences of the world outside? O’Doherty’s solution is to do both – but within reason. “The interesting part is in the tension, and how you figure it out,” he says.

“I love making stupid jokes more than anything, but you have to put it in the right context for people. Humans have always responded to bleakness by laughing. You know that bit in Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut, where they come up from the bunker and everyone’s dead? They just start laughing, because they don’t know how else to process it. It’s an integral part of human nature. It’s what we do. There’s definitely a place for stupid jokes and for laughing in times like this.”

When I started writing this show, there were jokes about Pokémon Go and fucking selfie sticks. Now, no one gives a shit about any of it.

It’s anyone’s guess exactly how Big Time will end up by the time O’Doherty arrives in Australia for his umpteenth festival run, including the Melbourne International Comedy Festival and the Sydney Comedy Festival. All we know is that O’Doherty will still be standing, laughing at the wreckage in Dresden.

“I’ve been getting a big roll of carpet tape and writing the word ‘HOPEFULLY’ in big letters behind me onstage,” he says. “The first night of the tour was at this beautiful old music hall, and it was really hot that night. The lights obviously didn’t help, so over the course of the show the lights were melting away the glue in the carpet tape. Hope was literally collapsing behind me. At the end of the show, only the E and the F were left in the middle – and they had melted into a shape that one could only describe as a swastika. Naturally, the tone of a show changes pretty drastically when you go from a symbol of hope to a symbol of hatred.”

Big Time as part of Sydney Comedy Festival 2017 is on at Enmore Theatre, Thursday April 27.

Get unlimited access to the coverage that shapes our culture.
to Rolling Stone magazine
to Rolling Stone magazine