Review by Julian Hall

He’s supported some of the best names in Irish comedy but tonight it’s Dean Scurry who needs help. He faces problems of his own making as he tries to juggle the elements in his set that he hasn’t linked and routines that he hasn’t taken to a logical and funny conclusion.

Loosely themed around growing up in Eighties Dublin, Scurry starts by throwing out some of the era’s best-known TV theme tunes to see if his audience will give the correct Pavlovian response. It’s this kind of engagement that Scurry dearly craves throughout the rest of his set, but, try as he might, reading adverts from an Irish newspaper from 1981 and chatting to audience members about what pen pals they once had won’t get much of a response unless there is a clear comedy goal in sight.

Similarly other elements are introduced in a kind of scrapbook format that aren’t fully exploited or are hastily delivered. Each one offers a hint of promise and a glimmer of hope for the show but nothing fully formed. A leaflet for the surprising political event ‘Sinn Fein’s Got Talent’ is exploited so far, but the delivery, as elsewhere, is a little confused.  

Rather late on he gets in to something approaching a stride with a routine about how women behave when they are drunk compared with men, and the kinds of things that each sex can get away with in that state. His final flourish is to breakdance for us and this capitalises on the upswing, ensuring that his audience leave in a state of moderate cheer.

Review date: 25 Aug 2009
Reviewed by: Julian Hall