Tim Burton's Vincent, his first stop motion film, made in 1982

I love Vincent Price's voice in this.

Vincent Malloy is seven years old
He’s always polite and he does what he’s told
For a boy his age, he’s considerate and nice
But he wants to be just like Vincent Price.

He doesn’t mind living with his sister, dog and cats
Though he’d rather share a home with spiders and bats.

There he could reflect on the horrors he’s invented
And wander dark hallways, alone and tormented.

Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him
But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum

He likes to experiment on his dog Abercrombie
In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie,
So he and his horrible zombie dog
Could go searching for victims in the London fog,

His thoughts, though, aren’t only of ghoulish crimes
He likes to paint and read to pass some of the times.
While other kids read books like Go, Jane, Go!
Vincent’s favourite author is Edgar Allen Poe

One night, while reading a gruesome tale
He read a passage that made him turn pale
Such horrible news he could not survive
For his beautiful wife had been buried alive!

He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead
Unaware that her grave was his mother’s flower bed
His mother sent Vincent off to his room
He knew he’d been banished to the tower of doom
Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life
Alone with the portrait of his beautiful wife

While alone and insane encased in his tomb
Vincent’s mother burst suddenly into the room
She said: “If you want to, you can go out and play
It’s sunny outside, and a beautiful day”

Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn’t speak
The years of isolation had made him quite weak
So he took out some paper and scrawled with a pen:
"I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again"

His mother said: "You’re not possessed, and you’re not almost dead
These games that you play are all in your head
You’re not Vincent Price, you’re Vincent Malloy
You’re not tormented or insane, you’re just a young boy.
You’re seven years old and you are my son
I want you to get outside and have some real fun."

Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall
And while Vincent backed slowly against the wall
The room started to swell, to shiver and creak
His horrid insanity had reached its peak

He saw Abercrombie, his zombie slave
And heard his wife call from beyond the grave
She spoke from her coffin and made ghoulish demands
While, through cracking walls, reached skeleton hands

Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams
Swept his mad laughter to terrified screams!
To escape the madness, he reached for the door
But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor

His voice was soft and very slow
As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe:

“and my soul from out that shadow
that lies floating on the floor
shall be lifted?
Nevermore…”

Tommy Tiernan, comedian. Record breaker. Seanchaí?

"His father had long talked of the travelling storytellers. He said they possessed brilliant powers; they brought the long-gone past to life vividly... In his father's view, a tale with the feeling taken out of it had 'no blood and was worth very little.'" Frank Delaney, Ireland

Image from here.

There is a roar of approval when Tommy Tiernan takes to the stage at the Cat Laughs in Kilkenny. The room is packed with ticketholders and comedians who have come to see him in action. Stewart Francis, Andy Parsons and Maeve Higgins have been on before but the reaction from the audience to the man from Navan taking the stage shows how eagerly anticipated he is. It's his second show of the night, with one more to go.



"The Irish" he says, "We don't really know if we're racist, or just having the craic." So begins a routine born of an indepth knowledge of the country and its people. He's done his research, he knows the reaction. Where to place each word and how. We're watching a master at work. Seeing him up close is one of the main reasons I'm volunteering here at all.



Like so many others, I got to know of Tommy through the Late Late Show. I remember vividly that crucifixion sketch and as religious as I was, laughing heartily about it, because at its base was that element of truth that all good comedy is based on. His infectious and quick wit, his "proud to be from N-y-avan" stance and his cheekiness were all things I liked.

For years though that was the only view I had of him. I didn't go to comedy shows so the controversy with uncle Gaybo was all I'd hear about. I saw him once at Vicar Street at a company night out and either I wasn't in the mood or I just didn't get it - he was amusing but not amazingly funny. I thought his crowd interaction ("Did anyone lose a geography teacher?" he asked as one man made his way to the toilets) was spot on, but that was it. That changed though when I moved to London and a(n Irish) flatmate introduced me to Tiernan's first DVD, Live.



The first time I watched the DVD I was transfixed. To say Tiernan was funny is such an understatement. He takes simple stories, every day occurrences and a quintessential Irishness and creates a spellbinding tapestry of words and laughter. His sketch about Irish music in a pub is one of my favourites and I often watch it just to remind myself how storytelling should be done. I love the Declan Moffat marathon sketch as well.



I can almost quote the DVD verbatim ('oranges from London') and have since bought all of his live DVDs, the Jokerman series and have seen him live twice. I take great delight in telling people about his sketches - Irish infestation, African priests, laughing at a funeral, the Cork accent all spring to mind - and would probably be termed an ambassador. Kilkenny though was a pinnacle.



"If there's one thing I'm genuinely racist - KKK racist - about", he booms from the stage, "it's the English accents on car sat navs. Feck you I want to say, I'll turn off wherever I want. I'm not that happy with you knowing where I'm going anyways!"

The audience love it. He's doing what all good storytellers do, evoking images from every day life to make them laugh. Like Delaney's seanchaí in his novel Ireland, Tiernan takes the audience on a familiar, comfortable journey through the words he uses, just looking at things from a different perspective.

"An Irish sat nav though", he says "would be different. You'd have a yearly update and the immortal phrases 'Straight on, you can't miss it' and 'Jaysis I told you that already'. Though really you'd probably just get all the directions in one go at the start".

His show continues through scenes of Irish suicide bombers (a bale of briquettes and a zip firelighter) through a new child in his life all the way to a graphic scene describing why women prefer to be on top during sex (so they can see the curtains that need changing).

His preparation is evident - he knows the material and like all good comedians probably lets it evolve, tweaks it every so often into something new. Even though he knows the story intimately with impeccable timing, he manages to inject something into the performance to make the audience believe it's spontaneous, off the cuff, just for them. In his own words:

“The show is like a conversation. You’d never sit at home and plan what you are going to say to your friend. It’s a bit like that but the audience’s only response is laughter.

“If I have an idea I try it out on stage. Then when you are trying out that idea another one comes to you on stage and you just try and lengthen them so that over the course of a run the show grows and develops and the stuff that develops is very organic.”

At next day's comedy football match, Tiernan shows no signs of running away from whatever controversy he's caused the night before with a remark about Madeline McCann. He tears around the pitch with the rest of his team, never afraid to tackle the ball or a player, and happily poses for photos with the team at the end. He is just one of the lads.



His fitness seems good. He doesn't do drink or drugs any more and in a recent interview, Tommy talks about his physicality on stage: the jumps, leaps and bounds he does:

"I think in Ireland we have a different style that is a more discursive or rambling style. We’re all influenced by different things but I think to get a true, muscular response from the audience, to get them rocking back and forth in their seats, it has to come from somewhere authentic inside you, you can’t fake it.

You should see me afterward, I’m like a deflated balloon afterward, totally punctured, spent, I’m over, I’m yesterday. It’s not premeditated though, it’s instinctive, I’m not being clever."

He's not everyone's cup of tea, as recent remarks about down syndrome come back again as a reason "he's lost it". But his job isn't to be safe, or to be universally liked, it's to make his audience laugh, to entertain them. That takes a lot of work.

Indeed, even before his show when he arrives at the hotel, you can see he needs the time to prepare. I approach him to tell him I'm a fan, that his music sketch continues to inspire my method of storytelling online

"Oh really?" he says, genuinely interested. "How did that happen? What are you doing with it?"

and I have time for the quick photo before the crowds see who I'm talking to and he's forced to retreat from the autograph hunters, the camera holders and other passionate fans. Later though he introduces me to his girlfriend and says thanks for the chat. Obviously, I'm delighted.



Last week Tommy broke a ticket selling record as all 12,000 tickets sold out for his three "Bovinity" Marquee shows in Cork. No other artist, Irish or International, has ever managed to sell out three shows at the Marquee to date, apparently. It's an astounding amount of seats to sell and a testament to both his talent and to the Irish hunger for stories, for something we can pass on, quote to our friends and strangers, to both explain ourselves and get a deeper understanding of who we are.

Following the Wikipedia definition of how seanchaí:

made use of a range of storytelling conventions, styles of speech and gestures that were peculiar to the Irish folk tradition and characterized them as practitioners of their art.

it would be hard pressed not to admit that Tiernan now does the same. With America at his feet (he recently got 10 minutes on Letterman, the same as Bill Cosby the week before) and his shows in Ireland continuing to sell out, Tiernan's is one story that continues to be told.

Tommy's last dates at Vicar Street for Bovinity are July 17 to 20 and he's joining Hector for the Tommy and Hector show at the Carlsberg Comedy Festival on Saturday 26 and Sunday 27 July. Tommy's website is at tommytiernan.com

What do you think? Tommy Tiernan - following the best traditions of seanchaí or just another comedian? Are you a fan?