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Review: The Last Laugh

Steve Royle, Damian Williams and Simon Cartwright in The Last Laugh - credit Pamela Raith

By: James Banyard

Three comedians find themselves in a dressing room. It sounds like the start of a joke. Actually, it’s the start of a play about three of Britain’s best loved funny men.

The Last Laugh, by Paul Hendy, is a nostalgia‑filled production that bathes its audience in a simpler time: the 1970s, when families sat down together to watch Eric Morecambe, Tommy Cooper and Bob Monkhouse, all laughing at the same jokes. But, the play is also an exploration, occasionally, of what comedy is, what makes a good joke, and why people get on stage to make others laugh. At times it moves into a gentle psychoanalysis of the characters.

At the opening, Tommy Cooper (Damian Williams) stands before us in sock suspenders, underpants and oversized chicken feet. Williams only has to make Tommy’s trademark chuckle, and the audience responds. As the show develops, it’s as if Cooper, Monkhouse, and Morecombe have been reanimated, brought back to life, Abba Voyage style but with fewer holograms. Banter is traded between them, and I was reminded a little of TV series The Trip, with Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon, joshing and playing versions of themselves. It is intriguing to see the imagined conversations they might have had.

The jokes are Christmas‑cracker fare: dressing‑room banter, gags about wives. But this isn’t full‑throated 1970s patriarchy, there’s no mother‑in‑law jokes, no racism. What we do get is a claustrophobically male‑centred world (only three female cultural figures are name‑checked: Shirley Bassey, Shelley Winters and, of course, Angela Rippon). That simpler time, it seems, was simple partly because the only people allowed to tell jokes were white, middle‑aged men.

The actors have done their homework. Steve Royle’s Eric Morecambe has the habitual flick of his glasses down perfectly, and the Lancashire accent. Williams has Cooper’s look and laugh and can make the audience giggle just by standing there, muttering. Simon Cartwright’s Bob Monkhouse is the dry straight man to the two clowns, smooth and suave. He reveals in the Q&A after the interval that he had worked with Monkhouse for 15 years, so had a front row seat to study his behaviour.

Yes, after the interval, the second half is a relaxed, podcast style Q&A. The actors return (with the understudy Richard Hodder) to riff on what it’s like to play their characters and take questions from the audience. The show ends with Morecambe’s trademark song ‘Positive Thinking’, and many in the audience stand and join in.

The Last Laugh will appeal to Plymouth’s wistful, nostalgic side. These legends of comedy are all within living memory, and the production marvels in their reanimation. The show makes for a warm and affectionate evening. Go and enjoy it, and maybe leave a little room to wonder how far we’ve come.

 

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