Comedy review: Julian Clary

Published on Thursday 5 November 2009 17:58

JULIAN CLARY: LORD OF THE MINCE ** PAVILION THEATRE, GLASGOW

AFTER a promising opening, his innuendo that bit more daring, his filth seemingly filthier than usual, Julian Clary reverted to type after ten minutes on the Pavilion stage for a tortuously predictable set of double-entendres.

It feels almost inconceivable now, but Clary once had a genuine capacity to shock and entertain. You couldn't, at least, fault his entrance here – scooting onstage in a pair of rollerblades and eye-catching salmon pink suit.

Although turning 50 has prompted a degree of self-reflection and a move to the countryside, it's also painfully evident that Clary has lost his zest for performance.

An anecdote about keeping chickens inevitably led to a "cock" punchline, but his notorious comments about former chancellor of the exchequer Norman Lamont, his stint on the Strictly Come Dancing tour and even a relationship with a people trafficker that might have led to him being kidnapped, were each perfunctorily relayed and held little comedic sparkle beyond a few decidedly limp penis gags and underdeveloped musings on men denying their sexuality.

Indeed, beyond his classist sniping at his badly dressed audience and game attempts to mimic a Glaswegian accent, this show's chief appeal came from hearing Clary playfully namedrop two or three ostensibly heterosexual celebrities that gossip suggests might be otherwise.

The second half began with that classic staple of the padded show – reading silly stories from the local newspaper – and floundered into some dull "psychic" audience participation before the comedian's dogs appeared to add some grasping "aah" factor.