Review of comedian's show inspired by her memoirs

Just before the interval a flash of insecurity crosses Jenny Eclair’s mind. ‘You’re not bored? Are you bored? Because this isn’t a stand-up show…’

There’s little chance of boredom, given the comedian’s breathless delivery, power-romping though her 64 years on Earth and 40-odd in comedy, as inspired by her recent memoirs, Jokes, Jokes, Jokes.

She’s right that this is more of a storytelling show, but she’s packed in more gags on stage than she did on the page. The self-doubt suggested by her seeking reassurance manifests in an over-keenness to pack her stage time with content, ever quick to defusing sentimentality with another zingy, self-effacing one-liner.

She overshares anecdotes with little regard for how she comes across while covering – but not dwelling upon – some of the deeper topics of the book such as the failing health of her parents. Even some pretty juicy details, such as the fact her father was a British spy, are very briskly skipped over, as she concentrates on his romantic side, hitchhiking from Cyprus to Blackpool – somehow – to see her mum as she was being treated with polio.

Her parents were what passed for sophisticated in the 1960s – yes, think avocado bathrooms suites – though the comedian-to-be rebelled recklessly, acting the idiot as her older sister had already got the job of sensible offspring  covered. The young Eclair was boy-mad, too, yet the paradox is that she has remained with Geof, whom she met during those wild days, ever since.

Self-destructive behaviour also manifested in anorexia, again barely dwelt on as the narrative of her life marches inexorably forward, a  constant flow of anecdotes tumbling out.

In 1981 she got into performing, first as a punk poet, inspired by John Cooper Clark to the point of plagiarising his whole shtick. She shares a few of her terse verses here. Delivered in his distinctive style, they hold up,.

On through the ‘toxic’ 1990s, where she embraced the hedonism of that decade’s stand-up circuit to the full. That her stage persona by this point was a ballsy, beating-the-lads-at their own game caricature only heightened that, although she eventually drifted away from the part of herself that was exaggerated in that character, starting to feel the alter-ego could be the death of her.

Her 40s, in contrast, seem a chore, trying to remain relevant – and employed – until finding a new lease of life with Grumpy Old Women, and the camaraderie of the tour.

Nowadays Eclair’s age and image is front and centre in her material. In her introduction she describes herself as a ‘walking bag of cellulite’, and she’s ready with quips about how her boomer generation are both patronised, and hated by the young – ‘and you can’t blame them’.

‘Too old for Live At The Apollo, too young for the Stannah Stairlifts gig’ is how she places herself – though just the right demographic to advertise Vagisil, it transpired: a brand mention that gets a cheer from similarly-aged women in the crowd.

Though she might have long ditched the wilder excesses of her persona, she hasn’t mellowed into tweeness either. We’re never far from a poop gag, and occasionally a vagina one to give the fans what they want. 

At times, especially in the second half, Eclair puts covering all the bases of her CV above the gags about being at whatever stage of life we’re at. Novel-writing, I’m A  Celebrity…, podcasting, more reality shows – it all passes in a blur. The impression is of a sheer grafter, hanging on in a fickle industry through a wiliness to do whatever it takes.

At 64 she may say that she’s happier at home with her  chutney, but it’s not just an indefatigable ethic that keeps her on stage, she clearly enjoys the freedom to lose her inhibitions and share. Or at least does a very good impressions of loving it.

She returns to the personal at the end, reflecting more soberly on the decline in her mother’s health and the birth of her grandson, giving a narratively satisfying conclusion, in true circle-of-life style. 

• Jenny Eclair: Jokes Jokes Jokes is on tour until June 8.  Jenny ​Eclair tour dates. We previously reviewed her book here.

Review date: 29 Mar 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Rose Theatre