THE IRISH love a good story. Tales and observations well up in them like spring water, only in Tommy Tiernan's case, the water was polluted at source, giving his wit an acid edge.

The well-regarded comedian joked about the size of the crowd, abused some late comers and appeared totally at ease from the off. One man on a cavernous stage. No props, no regalia, no fireworks, and seemingly no script. Tiernan's style was engaging: acutely observed short stories, fumbled words, Gallic interludes, long pauses and moments of surrealism.

The improvised edges, and a question-and-answer session for an encore, were there chiefly to keep him amused. While it all sounds potentially toe-curling, Tiernan clearly knew where he was heading with his material, and he generally kept to safe targets: religion, the monarchy and sex. Cutting edge this was not.

If the first half was hit and miss, Tiernan found his mark as he strode unassumingly out after the intermission. The family is an area ripe with comic potential - and well harvested by comedians - but Tiernan's clever handling of the subject demonstrated his comic class: "Three and a half year olds could rule the world, if only they weren't so easily distracted".

These stories of parenthood and the superhero battles between his young son, a would-be Batman and his comically enhanced grotesque daughter, connected fully with the audience's collective funny bone.

Updated: 11:08 Monday, June 30, 2003