Jigsy

Tony Staveacre’s one-man play takes place in the grubby backstage of a Liverpool working men’s club in the 1990s (beautifully evoked in Harriet de Winton’s set). While the bingo is called on stage, the eponymous comic, a fading star from decades past, embarks on a lengthy monologue, remembering a whole history of classic Liverpudlian comedy – and the sometimes tragic characters who delivered it.

The show’s draw, of course, is Les Dennis in the central role, and he doesn’t disappoint. It’s impossible not to see his own career mirrored in that of the has-been Jigsy, but it’s a connection Dennis uses to his advantage, openly playing on his years of experience in comedy. His timing is spot on in the play’s well-worn gags, and he has the audience transfixed with his tales of comedians long gone, and the hard times of a comic’s life.
Everyone seems to get a look-in—from Bernard Manning to Tommy Cooper, Charlie Williams to Cannon and Ball—and they’re all victims of Jigsy’s tongue. But his sometimes shocking revelations about their lives never fails to raise a smile.

Hannah Chissick’s direction keeps things moving yet allows space for some of the play’s tougher themes to emerge. The problem is that they never really develop – we hear about Jigsy’s hard background on the Liverpool docks and his imminent divorce, but by the end he doesn’t feel like a fully rounded character. The show comes across as an entertaining set of anecdotes, but there’s not much sense of delving deeper.