Some people claim that the 1960s and
1970s were the golden age of British comedy. There’s plenty of to enjoy from
this era but it often lacks any real substance.
It’s a funny show. Some of the gags and routines might be simplistic for today’s audiences but that’s the point – it’s era specific comedy.
It’s a funny show. Some of the gags and routines might be simplistic for today’s audiences but that’s the point – it’s era specific comedy.
The script by Ed Curtis and Allan Stewart, is surprisingly deep, self criticising, and metatextual – it draws on Stewart’s career but has enough objective distance to avoid overbearing self revelations. At times its Kaufmanesque and any criticism you’d have of the script are addressed within the show; this could be nauseating but it really works here. Often the comedy and drama sections are kept apart but when they start to merge these scenes become great theatre.
Gabriel Quigley as Maggie should get a mention at the very least for being the only female voice in what is portrayed as a man’s world. She doesn’t get a lot to do, other than move the plot along, but her character feels real and authentic.
Allan Stewart and Andy Gray play Alec and Gus. Formerly a double act, the frame of the show is built around their first meeting in a few decades. Stewart and Gray are known for improvising on stage but they don’t get much of a chance in the play, which shows a lot of self constraint.
Grant Stott plays Rory and provides beating dramatic heart of the show. I’ve often criticised Stott’s acting abilities in many publications of the years but here I’m happy to admit he’s really good. His fall from grace is utterly heartbreaking, but there isn’t much more I can say without giving away spoilers.
Canned Laughter really works as a drama about comedy. Comedy nerds won’t see anything new but you can’t fault the form and craft on the stage.