By Marilyn Lester***The 2024 Edinburgh Fringe Festival sell-out and subsequent West End hit, The Last Laugh, knows a thing or two about comedy, particularly that it’s hard. “Dying is easy. Comedy is hard,” said actor Edmund Kean on his deathbed in 1833—an oft-quoted declaration that’s the basis of filmmaker, producer, 
TV presenter, and playwright-director Paul Hendy‘s pithy and remarkable play, The Last Laugh, a love letter to three of Britain’s most successful old guard comedians and the tradition they represent. It’s a play that’s part poignant tribute and part philosophical enquiry, but mostly funny, funny, funny. It’s also owing to Hendy’s spot-on direction that the play succeeds so well. He knows his material, devised out of love and understanding of comedic craft.
The Last Laugh began as a short film in 2017, adapted by Hendy into the play with the same cast: Damian Williams as zany props comedian and magician Tommy Cooper (1921-1984), Bob Golding as Eric Morcambe (1926-1984), best noted for a double act with Ernie Wise, and Simon Cartwright as the witty Bob Monkhouse (1928-2003) who ultimately became better known as a game show host than as a stand-up comedian. Not only is the casting of these actors incredible in their resemblance to their characters, but they inhabit them so authentically, it’s difficult to believe they’re not the originals back from the dead.
Hendy’s concept is a clever one. The three share a single dressing room, preparing for an appearance on an unnamed show. Taking a page from the tradition of magician’s circles, the three affectionately prod and poke at each other as jokesters, while folding in revelations about their careers and personal lives. There are stories, gags and jokes galore. Yet what the banter boils down to is the craft and what it means to be a comedy hero, funny in the time-honored tradition of serving up laughs and entertainment to an eager public.
Practicing what it preaches, The Last Laugh relies on the power of comedy to succeed. There’s no plot, no narrative nuance, no high drama. Laughs are the payoff. And there’s plenty of ’em, embellished by the physical comedy of Cooper: Williams nails the fez-wearing original so thoroughly that a single gesture or stare induces belly laughs. To a significant degree it’s Monkhouse who’s the stand-in for us, the audience. He’s not a natural clown 
as are Cooper and Morecambe. Monkhouse is witty but being a funny man doesn’t come as naturally to him. He’s both an observer of the art of clowning as he is an “addicted” participant in making people laugh.
Like the art of comedy itself, which propels the laughs via a deep thrust of seriousness—humanity’s foibles and imperfections, The Last Laugh parts the curtain. Yes, comedy is hard and it can exact its pound of flesh on those who keep the laughs coming. What the play underscores in its perfectly balanced writing, outstanding acting and smart directing is that ultimately the science and psychology of this ancient art heals and connects us in our humanity; comedy is indeed the best medicine. The Last Laugh is time well-spent in a theater. Cooper, Morecambe and Monkhouse would be well-pleased.
Kudos to set designers Michelle Marden and Stuart Relph, and for lighting by Johanna Town, sound by Callum Wills and costumes by Amy Chamberlain.
The Last Laugh, with a run time of 1 Hour, 20 Minutes, plays through May 25, 2025 at 59E59 Theaters (59 E. 59th St, NYC) main stage. Tickets are $66-$86 (incl. a $6 fee) | 59E59 Members: $50. To purchase, click here.
Photos by Pamela Raith
