The Last Laugh review: ‘a love letter to British comedy and three of its funny men’ - The Jewish Chronicle

Writer and director Paul Hendy’s Edinburgh Fringe hit resurrects three of British comedy’s best-loved funny men; Tommy Copper, Eric Morecambe and Bob Monkhouse.

True, the last on that list was never as loved or as funny as the first two but in this nostalgic hark back to if not a golden era then at least to some of our most gilded comedians, Monkhouse serves as an essential part of many a routine – that of the straight man.

The slightly spooky conceit sets the action in what we soon infer is the great dilapidated provincial dressing room in the sky. Black and white portraits of comedy greats adorn the stained walls, among them Arthur Askey, George Formby and Max Miller. At the make-up mirror, however, sits a man in his vest, pants and a red fez.

Monkhouse serves as an essential part of many a routine – that of the straight man

If by that description you are either too young or too cheerless to recognise Cooper then neither this show nor this review is for you. But if in the mental file marked regrets that compiles over time there is space for never having seen this comedy genius in the flesh (all 6ft 4 inches of him) then this plucky little show that has somehow found its way into the West End will do much to assuage that yearning.

The plot is simply that Cooper (Damian Williams), Monkhouse (Simon Cartwright) and Morecambe (Bob Golding) all find themselves in the same dressing room getting ready for another show. They are unable to resist making each other laugh as they do so. Hendy’s script labours when it comes to conveying facts about the comedians’ off-stage – often tragic – lives. But when the trio discuss, deconstruct and demonstrate how they generate laughter the show becomes a masterclass in making comedy gold.

For the perma-tanned Bob it is a question of “chiselling” gags into a seamless set-up and punch line and then delivering the result with an on-stage persona that was so smooth you could ski down him.

Golding’s Eric meanwhile is an uncannily accurate display of the man who filled the living rooms of 20 million people with laughter on the Eric and Ernie Christmas special in 1977.

The last time I saw a bunch of ageing, off-duty comedians riffing off each other about old times, they were sat in a New York diner. One was kvetching about how there used to be so many comedy venues in New York that you never had to leave the city to find work.

“Look how far we had to go last week,” agreed another. “You went to Washington, I went to Baltimore. You gotta have good tyres to work there.”

That was the beginning to Woody Allen’s Broadway Danny Rose – a scene that is a love letter to both comedy and comedians. So too is Hendy’s play even if rather than borscht belt the flavour here is more music hall and boiled beef and carrots.

The Last Laugh

Noël Coward Theatre

★★★★★

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Theatre