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Tears.


The past few days have been sad ones for the comedy industry, what with the loss of two old-time comic greats, Ken Dodd and Jim Bowen.

I never got to see one of Dodd’s infamously epic shows in person, which was a shame, as it would have been fascinating to see a performer of almost unparalleled experience at work. I actually tried to book him twice for Mostly Comedy, which didn’t work out, which was a pity, as it would have been a real coup for the club and a solid learning experience.

Hearing Ted Robbins eulogise Ken Dodd on BBC Breakfast on Monday served to reiterate just how distinctive his comic voice was; Robbins inevitably slipped a couple of his gags into conversation, and not only were they perfect, you could also hear Dodd’s delivery in the air (as opposed to in his hair, which was another trademark). There aren’t many comedians who can be present in their own jokes while also not being there.

As for Jim Bowen, I was lucky enough to meet him and see him work at Glyn’s and my first Edinburgh Fringe in 2008. We went to a live version of the game show Bullseye, mainly for the kitsch flashback to our Eighties childhoods, but it was lovely to watch Bowen do some stand-up too. It wasn’t the only time we spotted him on the Fringe; a few years later, we were doing a set as part of a mixed bill, when he stuck his head around the door in the midst of it, like he was looking for someone; it was a surreal, yet perfectly timed moment; it’s not every day that the guy who was always on the telly when you visited your grandfather as a kid appears unannounced: things don’t get much more random than that.

Doggett, Bowen and Ephgrave, 2008.

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