In the summer of 1984 I was lucky enough to see Les Dawson performing at the Grand Theatre in Blackpool. It was a masterclass of comedy. He did it all.... Cosmo Smallpiece, playing the piano badly and joined with Roy Baraclough to bring Cissie and Ada to the stage as Blackpool landladies. It was a performance that has stayed in my memory for nearly four decades. So naturally I was intrigued to see that master mimic Jon Culshaw was bringing to the stage a one man show, written by Tim Whitnall, paying tribute to the much missed Dawson.
Culshaw is a performer whose career has been defined by detail. So much was expected of the physical manifestation of Les Dawson, and Culshaw doesn't disappoint. With rotund figure and a face like a robbers dog, we have before us Les. And of course as you would expect, Jon's vocal delivery is pitch perfect. For all intents and purposes we could be seeing Les rise from the dead. It's uncanny. The world weary asides and the impossible facial contortions, are all recreated with uncanny accuracy. We are in for quite a ride.
The play is superficially set on a flight on Concorde to New York, where Dawson will be performing at a club. The set consists of just a chair, a piano and a large 1970s telly that dominates the stage. As Dawson's story gets underway, it's not long before the TV screen comes to life and Cissie and Ada (Culshaw of course) start to comment on the course of the narrative in their own inimitable fashion, amid much gurning and bosom heaving.
We are taken through Dawson's eventful life from a childhood of poverty, his early talent for comedy, failed jobs and a stint in Paris as a pianist in a brothel. All through Dawson really wants to be a writer, his ambitions to be a published author nestling away even when he has broken through the tough variety circuit and achieved remarkable things on television.
The show is a mix of the Dawson we know and love, and the private man with his fears of failure forever looming over him like a black cloud. Culshaw taps into the warmth of Dawson, never letting the maudlin aspects of the story overwhelm, but delivering a performance of great depth and empathy. Whitnall's script employs several of Dawson's famous comic monologues, and the comedian's naturally verbosity is evident throughout the evening. Culshaw diverts us from one major impression to others such as Alan Whicker, Billy Connolly and Dale Winton as an invisible air steward. No need for a full cast with this man, he can provide the lot.
Les Dawson - Flying High is a love letter to a comedian's comedian and a national treasure. That Culshaw and Whitnall have delivered it with Dawson's class and talent intact is the greatest tribute I can pay. A must see show.
Rob Cope
