Ed Byrne is an anagram of Be Nerdy, the Irish standup tells us, and he's most effective when following that directive to the letter. A veteran observational standup and panel show mainstay, Byrne has won a wide audience with his chirpy/grumpy apercus on everybloke life. A section of his new show is devoted to just such "men do this, women do that" banter, which is diverting but generic. Far better when – as with a nerdy aside about Admiral (not Captain) Kirk's military rank in the second Star Trek movie – Byrne stands out from, rather than blends into, the crowd.
For the most part, he distances himself from sloppy thinking. I like that, as a preamble to his jokes about immigration, he tells us precisely where he stands politically. And that the only jingoism he's prey to is not nationalistic, but interplanetary. ("Fuck you, Mars!") Less novel is the material about Byrne's new baby – it poos a lot, apparently – and the absent-mindedness of the sleep deprived. This is genial but consensual stuff, eclipsed by the riff that follows, about a pheasant that invades his home to savour "the high life at Casa Byrne".
The material about Byrne's domestic arrangements – including a schematic routine about how stray cats are afforded greater hospitality than stray humans – is more or less gossipy. Likewise, a consultation with the audience about personal encounters with celebrities. I prefer it when Byrne forgets about consensus-building, and offers himself up in all his unadulterated idiosyncracy. The T-shirt legend "I love pussy like a fat girl love [sic] cake" inspires a rant that's less glorious for its offended morality (although that's fun, too) than for its nit-picking overanalysis. In anagram veritas: Byrne is best when nerdiest.
