WORD has it one of Ken Dodd's previous shows at the Pavilion went on until 2:30am. This time he was taking no chances: "I've locked all the doors," he told the crowd.
He's been famous for many things in his life – for his wonky teeth, for screwi
ng up his income tax, for being a funny man who can turn his hand to sentimental ballads but now, at the almost unbelievable age of 81, Dodd is famous for shows that go on for hours and hours and hours on end.
Saturday night was billed as a variety show, but in reality the other performers barely got a look-in.
A female musical turn was wheeled on after a couple of hours, presumably so Dodd could get to the loo, two musicians sat patiently on stage merely to contribute the odd sound effect and the "special guest star" was a ventriloquist's dummy, operated by – guess who.
The big surprise was that he just about got away with it. There was a bit of dithering in the delivery and some of the material was understandably dated but Dodd's absurdly comic face was as expressive as ever and his punchlines have a habit of taking you by surprise. There was no swearing, no vulgarity, no meanness and plenty of laughs.
If I were a producer I would be trying to steer him away from these marathon shows and towards something that leaves the audience wanting more, not less.
But this is a man addicted to the love of his audience. And for some the feeling is mutual. When the curtain finally fell after four and a half hours, the lady next to me said: "I'm so disappointed he didn't sing Tears – but I suppose it wasn't long enough for him to do everything."
