Luke Adamson charms as the campy icon of British comedy
Larry Grayson. A name sure to incite looks of delight in some or a blank stare of unfamiliarity in others. He was a lauded raconteur and entertainer of the twentieth-century British entertainment circuit, known for his bawdy innuendos and quick wit. One of a few gay figures in the cultural mainstream, Grayson has largely been forgotten over the decades. Writer Tim Connery and director Alex Donald want to see that changed with their new one-man comedy What a Gay Day! – The Larry Grayson Story, a charming insight into the life and times of the late comedian.
The action takes place in a liminal space. Grayson is summoned by a medium in order to recount his story and reach new audiences — the showboater — before heading back into the afterlife. What follows is 80 minutes of stand up, songs, and anecdotes that have us grinning the whole time.
Despite being the youngest in the theatre by about a generation (or two), you don’t need a working knowledge of seventies Britain to keep up with the antics. There are of course more than a few chuckles of familiarity from the audience at the mention of variety hours, celebs of the past, and The Generation Game, which made Grayson a household name. At one point Grayson dubs the time as a golden age of television, a woman nods in fervent agreement. I guess you just had to be there.
Luke Adamson’s flourished air is compelling, he practically floats about on stage, raising his arms like a featherweight showgirl. Adamson slips on the mask of Grayson’s iconic pouting lips with an intuitive speed, he is seemingly fluent in all the limp affectations. He runs the gamut of characterisations throughout the night: one second he is a smarmy youthful showman, the next a disapproving teacher, the next Grayson at his full powers during his tight ten. What keeps us afloat during the unspooling biography are frequent breaks to Grayson at his stand up sets. He piles on layers of innuendo with the utmost dexterity. He gabs about his ‘friends’ Everard and Slack Alice with a captivating bitchiness, though we’re none the better for lapping up every sordid detail. This room for laughter and breath keeps things chugging along nicely, but also stops us from getting bogged down by the usual biography piece slump — there’s always the weight of a female relative’s death isn’t there?
What a Gay Day may not be immune to the occasional slump in the action, yet the charm and tenacity of Luke Adamson keeps us hooked. In his hands the work is elevated from fringey one-hander to a masterclass in comedic timing and camp with a lot of heart. What a gay day indeed.