NATURAL Born Mincer started out with such promise as colourful camp commando -- Julian Clary -- emerged from the wings on a giant motorised stiletto.
Decked out in an impossibly tight corset, thigh-length lace up platform boots and a floral headdress -- all in a classy shade of neon orange -- Clary looked the part for his one night stand at the Grand.
But some mildly amusing quips about drugs and shoplifting in Blackpool, a few pathetic attempts to mimic a northern accent, more Femme Fresh wipes than an average chemist's counter and an appearance by poor beleaguered lesbian, Helga, were not enough to save this!
Things could have started to look up when the sometimes razor sharp Clary and side-kick, Hugh Jelly, left the stage to steal possessions from the audience before rifling some poor woman's supposedly non "Gucci" bag.
This was, after all Clary's tribute to his 20-year career in showbusiness. But, after a lame insult about a No.7 blusher and yet more free Femme Fresh's, we were back onto the show's staple diet of insults for Graham Norton and Will Young.
The two saving graces were the musical talents of pianist Sarah Travis and sensational vocals of singer Gail MacKinnon. After a welcome interval, the "camp icon" emerged on stage wearing holographic blue chaps and matching jacket, tastefully designed to make his torso and genital area resemble a fish, topped off with a vicious-looking diamante pike strapped to his head! The self-styled "national treasure" then proceeded to drag the show along with yet another assault on the bemused audience.
This time Clary hauled two unsuspecting (and heterosexual) audience members, Arthur and Ashley, up on stage in an pathetic attempt to reaffirm his trademark homosexuality.
Bu after coercing Ashley to take off his trousers (revealing no underwear) and middle-aged Arthur to bear his chest, I almost went home. Having said all that, the audience stayed attentive throughout and, in Clary's favour, he accepted the hecklers interruptions graciously and seemed more-than-happy sharing his fiercely-guarded spotlight. Laughs were right on cue and the set was fabulous.
Camp comedy can be ferocious, fast-paced and fun without scraping the barrel. If Mr Clary is threatened by the likes of Norton, perhaps he should concentrate on improving his act - second-rate pot-shots are just a bore!
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