Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

It may be dressed up as a play, but The Last Laugh is essentially a tribute show. Audiences want to relive the glory days of Tommy Cooper, Eric Morecambe and Bob Monkhouse, and Paul Hendy’s nostalgic new show delivers exactly that.

The trio find themselves sharing a tatty dressing room somewhere – the astute will immediately figure out where – its walls plastered with old playbills and black and-white headshots of other comedy greats They trade insults, banter and bits of their acts while contemplating the nature of comedy.

There’s no reason for Cooper to get out his prop duck or Morecambe to do his paper bag trick or lead the others in  a rendition of Following You Around, one of his and Ernie Wise’s trademark numbers, but that sort of shtick is what audiences have come for, and that’s what’s delivered.

Between all the bits of business, the trio debate their various styles. Monkhouse is jealous of Morecambe’s warmth and Cooper’s natural funny bones and the way audiences instinctively love him. But while the game show king may be a colder performer, he is a master craftsmen, chiselling away at a joke to make it scientifically as hilarious as it could possibly be, something Cooper is jealous of.

As well as contemplating that age-old distinction between a comic who says funny things, and a comedianwho says things funny, the trio raise the concept of the sad clown, wondering what it was in their childhoods that led them to seek the approval of strangers. 

Some actual emotions leak out from beneath Monkhouse’s usually implacable facade (and several layers of creosote make-up), when he recalls the suicide of his former double-act partner Denis Goodwin. Would things have been different if Monkhouse’s ambition and drive not forced them apart? 

In a note-perfect cast, this moment shows Simon Cartwright to be the most valuable player, with an uncanny impression that gets the late comic’s studied cadences just right and brings humanity to the comic.

All three have played their respective comedy icons on stage before, and occupy their roles as comfortably as Cooper dons his fez. As Morecambe, Bob Golding hits all the right notes, and in the right order, while Damian Williams captures the lugubrious Cooper perfectly. Like the real thing, he gets a laugh without saying a word.

Drama-wise, there’s not much to see here. As well as the old gags, still landing all these decades on, most of the other lines will be familiar to to die-hard fans who’ve read any biographies, and there are no twists and turns.

It’s just three adored comedy icons (or two adored icons and Bob Monkhouse to join in with the show’s teasing) enjoying each other’s company and doing what they did best, all recreated by three brilliant performers with an affectionate script that gives them the chance to shine.

Review date: 22 Aug 2024
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Assembly George Square