The 02, Dublin

Given that Jerry Seinfeld has been performing since 1976, it is remarkable that this show was his very first in Ireland. It was worth the wait.

Comedy in the O2 can be a little like trying to watch a DVD on someone else’s laptop across a crowded airport. The disconnect between crowd and performer is often palpable. Although a venue on this scale might suit a strong physical performer such as Billy Connolly, there were fears for Seinfeld’s more subtle, observational shtick.

So far, so cynical. So wrong.

From the get-go this was a comedy masterclass. The setting was pure simplicity – black drapes, a microphone and a spotlight (okay, there were also two huge screens, but it’s a pretty big room). Seinfeld took to the stage with a ferocious energy that had the bizarre effect of almost immediately shrinking everything down. From the outset this could have been the Comedy Cellar in New York – no mean feat in a venue of this size. And then, most importantly, there were the jokes.

Now aged 58, Seinfeld’s outlook is a little more middle-aged, but the material is as sharply executed and wryly observed as anything from his groundbreaking sitcom. His routines about technology, about parenthood and the role of a dad (how his lifespan seems to follow that of a helium balloon, starting off full of hot air and ending up bobbling up and down in a corner trying to support the weight of its own string), and, in particular, marriage were hilarious and fresh. He even referenced Nama, for crying out loud.

I saw the masterful Martin Hayes performing the previous night with The Gloaming and he described traditional music as being so beautiful because of its simplicity, but not being so simple as to become boring. Seinfeld’s set reminded me of this. The ordinariness of the material is deceptive – Jerry Seinfeld makes standup comedy look effortless when he’s really just being masterful.