Venue: Bewley’s Café Theatre
Time: 1:00pm
Reviewed by: Hari Eswaran
Edited by: Kaitlyn Smith
Rating: ★★★★ 4/5
Maanadh has the kind of stage presence that makes you forget you are watching a staged performance. His soft-spoken, almost shy presence gives the impression of someone who has made the distinct decision to finally open up to you over a pint. His confidence and ease on stage disarmed the audience, as if we had somehow earned the right to hear what he had to say and laugh along with him at the absurdity of it all.
The audience in the small, packed room erupted into applause as he opened his set with the line, “Cork is the real capital.”
His ability to demystify, through humour, the real and daily struggles of immigrant life in Ireland is at the heart of his talent as a comedian. With each wry and self-effacing joke, Maanadh painted a picture of the folly of anti-immigrant hate and misconception.
Wearing a plaid button-down shirt, slacks and a pair of glasses, Maanadh juxtaposed stereotypes of the migrant Indian tech worker associated with his appearance with a deep and joyful understanding of Irish history, humour and culture. He made jokes about Gerry Adams, Fianna Fáil and Packie Bonner — or “Paki Bonner”, as his friends had lovingly branded him.
He centred much of his humour around a knowledge and appreciation of places outside Dublin, Cork in particular. This had the effect of bridging the gaps created by the geographical separation from his homeland, the cultural misinterpretations placed upon him and the multitudes within himself that developed over the course of his eight years in Cork.
Maanadh has the skill of taking the most hateful interpretations of him, and of immigrants more broadly, and turning them on their head. Survival can really start with a wink and a smile.
He shied away from overly sentimental confessions or assertions, always redirecting towards humour just when you thought he might be heading there. There are some who may have wished for a deeper cultural analysis or a more overt acknowledgement of the current political shift towards right-wing sentiment, but one could argue that what Maanadh did here was more fruitful.
He demystified himself through humour, revealing the layers of cultural connection beneath the surface. In doing so, he built bridges with the Irish audience, beckoning them to cross over and meet him.
And it worked.
That was perhaps best evidenced by the singular moment of undiluted sincerity towards the end of the show, when he announced with unrestrained pride that he had received his Irish citizenship. The audience responded with thundering hollers and applause.
It was a touching scene created over the course of a short 50-minute set. Maanadh should feel proud of what he has created here. Sometimes change happens on the streets or in the voting booth, but Maanadh showed how sometimes real change begins with an exceptionally well-timed joke.
