The Ken Dodd Happiness Show

Weymouth Pavilion

April 5

Being a diddy Scottish youngster of 23 years, I did not know a great deal about Ken Dodd before going to this performance – and YouTube does not do the legendary stand-up justice.

The auditorium was full up well before the start time of 7pm – with a largely (but far from exclusively) grey hue to the attendees.

It was a special night for Ken too, as he announced that it was the 57th anniversary of his start in showbusiness.

The length of his career can only be matched by the length of his performances. It was 12.15am when the curtain fell on this occasion – though it is a credit to the quality of the evening that the vast majority of the audience were still there at that time.

Ken wasn't on stage for the entire time (come on, he is 87), thanks to a couple of musical interludes – notably from folk duo An Dante, whose version of In Dulci Jubilo was particularly enjoyable.

As for Ken himself, there was an element of 'granddad telling jokes' to the show, with a dollop of 'things were better in my day' wistfulness and the occasional treading into awkward racial territory.

That's not to say he's been stuck on repeat since the 1950s – even if he did overegg the pudding when it came to jokes about the age of his audience or the length of his show ('it's not a watch you need for this, but a calendar').

Indeed, he was on top of the recent motoring show fracas – 'I spent all week trying to come up with a joke about Jeremy Clarkson... and then it hit me' – and I found that his reel of doctor and patient jokes really hit the mark.

He delighted his audience by bringing out ventriloquist dummy Dickie Mint, while also demonstrated that despite his advanced years and his frequent coughs, he still has a fine voice more than capable of delivering a song or two.

There is another sense in which he was like a granddad – his warmth. He looks on his audiences as friends, and his appeal for the future of the volunteer-run Pavilion ('every town needs its theatre') was genuinely touching.

Richard Browne