PATRICK S DAY

IT S IRONIC that Patrick McDonnnell should be the comedian chosen to advertise First Active Insurance when the man himself admits to being something of a dab hand at being a lay-about.
From close observation of the particular breed called comedus stand-up us, it does appear that yer average gag merchant spends an inordinate amount of time with their Playstations, assiduously avoiding anything that looks like it might involve more than the co-ordination of their thumb and forefinger.
However, the Louth comic has, he happily concedes, never found himself more in demand, with appearances as the roving reporter on Don t Feed The Gondolas and the insurance ad where he gets to gurn for Ireland while showing off his wardrobe of brightly-coloured shirts upping his public profile.
"It s a very lazy life," admits McDonnell, reclining comfortably in a chair in the Central Hotel in Dublin. "I do nothing. Well, not recently the last couple of months I ve been working like mad. I had to get up early quite a lot. It s a bit hectic.
"I haven t had a chance to play the International much and do the normal gigs. It s been hard work. But for a good three years, I did nothing. I just scratched my arse at home; and watched Countdown.
"I did stand-up in the first place cos a friend told me to do it. I don t show initiative, really. If I was still scratching my arse watching Countdown, it wouldn t bother me. But then people ask me to do things."
The reason people ask Patrick McDonnell to do things is because he s pretty good at that thing he does. Strange, surreal stories of Life In Louth can often be thrillingly off the wall, a characteristic which situates McDonnell in the funny farm of Irish comedy, along with other postmodern seanchai like Kevin McAleer and Ardal O Hanlon. It also helps that he looks a bit mad; with his frizzy hair and permanently bewildered facial expression.
At the moment, people are asking him to write a radio series, O, Show! for BBC Radio 4; a pilot with Radio Ulster with Moondog Productions; "a few articles for D-Side magazine", while his double-act with Dublin messer, Joe Rooney, made its way into last year s Edinburgh Festival.
When pressed, he admits he wouldn t mind writing or starring in a sitcom "if I had an idea for it" and that he d like to do "a bit of acting."
But even mentioning the possibility of going down that road elicits a languorous sigh from McDonnell, as though the very thought of typing the scenes on a page is too much like hard work for him! T'was not ever thus, however. It turns out that McDonnell did once have to rise with the lark himself for a period before becoming a comedian.
"I worked in the Dublin Woollen Mills for three years which had hours of 9.30pm to 6pm," remembers McDonnell. "And I was a teacher for a bit. I taught history. So I can work, but stand-up offered me the chance to sit around and do nothing. . . which I quite enjoy."
As far as his comedy influences go, he mentions Freddie Starr, The Two Ronnies, Monty Python, and Peter Cook. As well as. . .
"I really loved Hall s Pictorial Weekly that was a massive influence," says McDonnell. "My mother used to let me stay up specially that night to watch it. I have a picture when I was about three where I ve got the hair up like Frank Kelly s and the same face!"
McDonnell, of course, went on to work with his childhood hero in a memorable cameo in Father Ted, as Fr. Eoin McLove, but it s his own material that he s concentrating on now.
"Edinburgh really focuses you," he says. "I ve written a batch of material about Protestants and that s going really well. The crowds love it, God love em. Rangers fans came in one night and they loved it! They got mad into it.
"But there was one bloke in Galway who got a bit offended at a college gig so I had to calm him down. It was in the canteen. He hadn t paid in to go to comedy. So he was just sitting there eating his dinner and heard this guy talking about Protestants!"
One wonders, though, how well McDonnell s material would travel across the water with much of it concerned with specifically Irish cultural references, like Quicksilver. His attitude to the Big Smoke, suggests he may feel the same way himself.
"When I started," explains McDonnell, "I suppose I thought we re all gonna go to London eventually : Ardal did it, Kevin Gildea, Andrew Maxwell. . . it was the natural thing to do for the likes of me and Tommy Tiernan and Jason Byrne.
"But I didn t need to. I never had to do anything else. I made quite a good living from it. If you don t have to, there s no point. I think London can be a very shallow experience. A lot of people say that."
Not every aspect, however, of the Irish comedy scene finds favour with the man from Dromiskin.
"You can be on a bill with three other acts Americans, English whatever and the Irish audiences will always go for those. When they see an Irish act on the bill, they think, hey, I could do better myself ."
The Co. Louth town in which McDonnell grew up is just five miles from Dundalk, a place which has come under scrutiny in recent times.
"What do you mean?" asks McDonnell.
Well, it has a reputation as a republican stronghold to the people living further south.
"I don t think it s as republican as people think," he argues. "Brendan McGahon always gets the highest number of votes in the town and he s very much anti-republican. He s a member of Fine Gael. They have a history which involves the Blueshirts.
"A lot of people came from the North. My grandfather, who would be Unionist, came to live in the area where senior republicans have settled."
Meanwhile, McDonnell himself is happy to stay in Dublin, playing the clubs and getting acquainted with our national broadcaster s television studios . . . when he s not sitting at home, watching Countdown, that is!