Alan Davies – Live Review – Dewsbury Town Hall
By Hazel Davis, February 2025
It’s late – 10.15pm to be precise and most of the audience in Dewsbury Town Hall secretly wish they were at home with their pyjamas on (based on my person poll of four people). The radiators are blaring and we’re all yawning. Alan Davies has yet to arrive on stage.
It’s not his fault. Since the night started, we’ve had not two but three more acts, as well as an MC. Moreover, most of us are of an age that remembers Davies in Jonathan Creek, which means it’s inching closer to our bedtime.
But it’s testament to the good vibes the promoter (and MC) Graeme Rayner (aka Gag ‘n’ Bone Man) has built up in the venue that we all stay put and cheer enthusiastically when the QI star finally appears.
He’s been patiently waiting backstage while we chortle our way through a stonking set from Britain’s Got Talent’s Lost Voice Guy. The set is significantly ruder and darker than you might have seen on TV, but still funny, refreshing and heartwarming. The jokes are slick and the joy on Lee Ridley’s face when they land or when he gets one over on us is infectious.
After a break, Rayner treats us to a couple of open spots and students of his comedy course. There’s a little too much time introducing them and the increasing heat from the radiators (turned up to about 400 degrees) is making us a bit twitchy. But we’re receptive. There’s every chance musical comedian Yorkshire Wife (aka Jo Mason) wasn’t expecting to warm up for a beloved TV star but she’s cheerful and lively. The second open spot and student is Alan Fiddler, your classic “stinky loser” comedian, with some cracking lines and superb stage presence.
“Skilled at making you care”
Unfortunately, after they perform, the students hijack the proceedings, somewhat and launch into a love-in of Rayner. It’s clearly deserved. He’s obviously a warm and encouraging bloke who’s not only bringing some big names to the town but also developing new talent along the way. It’s lovely but it means Fiddler breaks character and talks about his process (oh no) and derails the night sufficiently that Rayner has to jokily tell them to f**k off, except (we’re all thinking) it’s not a joke. He then proceeds to waffle on himself afterwards, nearly losing us completely.
Anyway, FINALLY, Davies enters, commenting perhaps a little tight-lippedly on the amount of time he’s been backstage but smiling nonetheless. His set is standard older white bloke (his words) material. There’s nothing original here – it’s all cars, ULEZ (we’re in Dewsbury, mate, we couldn’t give a s**t about ULEZ), Viagra, getting the kids ready for school (they take ages and don’t listen) and prostates (the doctor sticks his finger up your bum and it’s a shock, etc, etc).
BUT, he does it extremely well. Davies owns the stage and he’s skilled at making you care. You’re with him in the room when he’s failing to get rid of his erection and his wife’s lost interest. It’s impossible not to get swept away with his grumpy old man frustrations. It’s a shorter set than perhaps the audience (or the promoter) was expecting but I imagine we’re all a bit relieved when the town hall bell tolls (“I’ve never been told to f**k off by an *actual* venue before”) and he winds down, leaving us wanting more.
In his opening words, “This might be the last gig you ever go to before World War III breaks out.” In that case, what a nice one.
Hazel Davis lives in West Yorkshire and has been a journalist for most of the UK national newspapers and many magazines, cutting her teeth on a classical music magazine. She’s the lead singer in a country band (Mustard County), plays trumpet in a wind band and big band and cornet in a brass band. When she’s not playing music or writing about it, she’s usually thinking about it.
