Full of joyous, carefree laughter, full of heart, spirit and shining brilliance, this show is a terrific tonic for the soul – assuming you know and love, that is, those three evergreen giants of comedy, Eric Morecambe (1926-1984), Tommy Cooper (1921-1984) and Bob Monkhouse (1928-2003). All are so fantastically portrayed onstage, so real, you can hardly see the join.
Unrivalled in their unique charm, appeal and charismatic magic, the three are brought superbly to life in Paul Hendy’s instant smash hit at 2024’s Edinburgh Fringe, The Last Laugh. Bob Golding, Damian Williams and Simon Cartwright, the actors devoted to portraying these deeply loved comic legends, had all separately played their respective counterparts over the years before a stroke of genius brought them together in Hendy’s short film of 2017, subsequently expanded into this one-act play. It’s a moving, meaningful play, in which the actors don’t dabble in superficial caricatures or impressions but bring the real people to life, their voices and characteristic mannerisms flowing naturally as deeper insights into their personalities, thought processes and personal lives emerge.
Sturdily built upon deep admiration and warm affection, this celebration of the men and their art is wreathed through with cosy nostalgia and feel-very-good hilarity in a show packed with the familiar gags, jokes and classic comic routines of these very different talents, but tinged at the same time with poignant, sometimes tragic undertones. In Wilfred Owen’s war poem of the same name, The Last Laugh, humour and tragedy sit side by side, and the play echoes to some extent its sentiments on the inexplicable absurdity of life and laughter and the inevitability of death, especially in respect to Tommy Cooper’s last bow.
Over their lifetimes these icons brought a wealth of comic sunshine to multiple millions and still do. In fact, the sight and presence alone of Eric or Tommy would set people laughing their heads off just like that, so great were their instant charisma and endearing charm. Miraculously, aided by that fond nostalgia, Golding and Williams replicate even this. Monkhouse, unlike them, was a broader actor and big-time game show host (in The Golden Shot and Family Fortunes, for example). In stand-up performances he was obliged to rely heavily on carefully honed punch-lines rather than innate funniness and he was minutely analytical of how each and every word and pause must be perfect, recording all in treasured joke books. In heavy Monkhouse make-up, Cartwright, who knew the man himself, uncannily recreates those more middle-class Monkhouse cadences and twinkling mannerisms, built more on contrived charm and smarm.
With subtle, effective use of sound effects and lighting, the play opens with wonderful drama, engendering warm laughter from the start (unless in New York). The imagined encounter begins as the three comics assemble, unexpectedly, in a theatre dressing-room, a typically shabby affair with old wash-basin, dark furniture, empty hangers, and peeling walls hung with faded photos and tatty posters of all-time greats, much admired by the three, such as Laurel and Hardy, Max Miller, Sid Field, Will Hay, Arthur Askey and George Formby (though certainly not Mike and Bernie Winters or Des O’Connor). While dodgy electrics cause the dim, orange light-bulbs to fizz and flicker and buzz, Cooper and Morecambe cope with some random, equally ominous goings-on with their own dickey tickers.
Their chat and banter creating laughter all the way, the three josh, joke and jibe as they literally entertain one another as well as us. Eric has his little ukulele in his hand from time to time and the three perform the odd song routine together, a slightly clunky addition, perhaps, but a lot of fun, and effective in maintaining balance of pace, mood and buoyancy.
In between times, the nature of comedy itself and of their own success gets mused upon, discussed and dissected. All three were driven by the same drive and intense dedication to the perfection of their art. Even the seemingly laid-back Morecambe and apparently bumbling, incompetent Cooper would massively rehearse and minutely hone their jokes and routines to make them appear off the cuff and in the moment, while also harbouring an underlying fear that the laughs might just stop coming at any time. All made sacrifices, compromises and/or mistakes in their private lives.
The play has it all: morose Tommy in his underwear with red fez, unkempt hair, foul feet and putrid puns, with his gruff throat-clearing, mad chuckle, unreliable card-dealing duck and bottle-glass/glass-bottle whisky, and with his characteristic, lumbering gait and white picket fence; there’s cheeky, chirpy Eric with his paper bag, glasses, songs, positive thinking and wahey, and there’s the smart, restrained Monkhouse, the brunt of the other two’s derisory jokes, with his precious joke books and earnest analyses. Equally absorbing, entertaining, warm and uplifting is the shorter Act Two that takes the unusual form of a Q & A session with the three actors appearing as themselves, led by intrepid understudy Richard Hodder.
Cheerfully chiselled, polished and touching, The Last Laugh delivers a wonderful dose of the very best medicine for boosting a sense of well-being and it demonstrates most effectively that the sharing of laughter is possibly the finest legacy anyone might leave when they go.
Eileen Caiger Gray
The show is in Sheffield until 05 July and then tours the UK. For information on future dates and where to get tickets follow this link.
