Barry Cryer

For an upstart reviewer, attempting to evaluate Barry Cryer is like listening to A Hard Day’s Night and publishing a few derogatory comments about the title song: it’s pointless. Not only are you 40 years too late – the man doesn’t need my help to garner a sizeable audience – but you are also pathetically trying to assess the relative merits of a part of cultural history.

That’s not to say that Barry’s past it, far from it. At 72, Cryer springs on to stage to sit imperiously over his audience atop an elegantly carved wooden throne. With new gags aplenty, Cryer’s infamous wit and idiosyncratic performance style are on form. Did he tell you that the oldest man in the world is still alive? Don’t worry, it’s not Barry, but he doesn’t buy green bananas anymore, just in case. He does admit that food has replaced his sex life, though. He’s even fitted a mirror above the kitchen table.

The Walrus of Laughs has the audience, mainly consisting of his loyal Radio 4 followers, knowingly nudging their long-term spouses as they fall helplessly into the aisles. His set, demeanour and mere presence makes even the most hardened youths in attendance long lustily for a better comic time they never knew.

The man who wrote the jokes behind Morecambe and Wise, Tommy Cooper, Kenny Everett, Stanley Baxter, Dick Emery, Bruce Forsyth, Frankie Howard, The Two Ronnies and Billy Connolly (and, ahem… Bobby Davro) is a master of his art. But despite having a CV written by the Good Lord Himself, (a little bit of trivia for you now) this is in fact Barry’s first ever solo stand-up performance. His agent even rang up beforehand to ask that reviewers not be too harsh as he was a little nervous. Don’t worry Barry, with a performance like that and a history like yours, we’ll be clamouring for more until you can’t stand the sight of us.