Among our indelible memories of 9/11 are undoubtedly the fall of the Twin Towers, the heroism of the NYC firefighters and the resilient spirit of the city’s residents and visitors.
BUT in far-off Gander, Newfoundland, there was a different manifestation of the goodness of the human spirit. That day when the US airspace was closed, some 200 planes were diverted to a little known airport “on a rock in the sea” in Canada.
Come from Away is a staggeringly beautiful , resonant and life-enhancing musical based on real-life testimony of both stranded passengers and crew and the residents of Gander , whose population grew from 9,000 to 16,000 in just one fateful day.
From its high energy opening number Welcome to the Rock, the hit Broadway show, written by Irene Sankoff and David Hein, makes us laugh and cry in equal measure but is never for one second sentimental or blindly optimistic.
With songs and dances in a punchy, bouncy Gaelic rock style, it takes us into the lives of ordinary and yet extraordinary people .
It’s an ensemble piece but there are stand-out performances from Clive Carter as Gander’s beleaguered mayor, and Rachel Tucker as Beverley Blass, America’s first female airplane captain.
Carter is jovial, firm, harassed, compassionate and down to earth. Tucker is resilient, determined and yet shattered by her 9/11 experiences. Her song Me and the Sky is a high point in this 100 minutes of inventive, lively and thought-provoking entertainment.
And it’s no straightforward biopic or rosy view of humanity. There is fear, anger, mistrust and misinformation – just like everywhere else in life.
But what the cast of 12 pulls off is something quite magical. We meet Catholic, Muslim, Jew and non-believers rubbing on alongside each other – the local cop, bartender, college principal and rooky TV reporter on her first assignment – and we grasp that real drama can be found in the most mundane places.
Director Christopher Ashley keeps the cast at a frighteningly high-speed momentum and MD Alan Berry gets a variety of sounds and moods from his fellow 7 musicians. Our toes are tapping throughout.
Musicals based on real-life events tend to have a short shelf life, fading with the passing memories of the audience.
9/11 is clearly not in that mould, and I’m guessing that in 20 years, somewhere they’ll still be singing Welcome to the Rock.
Come from Away is at the Phoenix Theatre, London, booking through till September.
When Benidorm hit our TV screens in 2007 it was in a rich vein of sit coms, dating back to Hancock in 1956.
AND millions tuned in each week over its 70 + episodes, ending in 2018.
But Derren Littlen, its creator, isn’t done with his baby and so Benidorm Live has toured the UK for the last few months, hitting the boards in Brighton this week.
Half a dozen of the tv stars are in this musical interlude – notably of course for Brightonians is Brighton-based Tony Maudsley who plays the outrageous hairdresser Kenneth.
But here too live in front of a highly excited audience are heartthrob barman Mateo (Jake Canuso), middle-aged swinger Jacqueline (Jane Duvitski), gay-or-not gay Liam (Adam Gillen), hotel manager Joyce (Sherrie Henson), and tour guide Sam (Shelley Longworth).
The audience of course are huge TV fans so each principal gets an ovation on their carefully crafted separate first entrances.
The script is quick-fire with one-liners worthy in their innuendo of any Carry On film.
And they’ve even kept one of the TV highlights – a famous performer playing themselves – in this case it’s singer/impersonator Asa Elliott, reminding us so much of Tony Hadley in the TV version,
The storyline carries on from the final TV episode, with the Hotel Solana up for takeover and everyone’s job on the line. The plot develops into a mystery story as the staff try to find out the identity of an undercover hotel inspector, with hilarious results.
It isn’t really a musical and it isn’t really a play, though it has dialogue, songs and dances, all camply delivered by the stars and ensemble. It’s a show – a good old-fashioned seaside – end of the pier show, with a fabulous revolving set and everyone performing at the top of their game.
Expect one-liners like someone reading the menu and referring to Jacqueline saying “she likes a sausage in cider” – just read it out loud dear reader, and that’s what’s in store for you.
All six principals play their characters pitch perfect and even if you’re a Benidorm virgin like me, the storyline is funny, touching and just joyous to follow.
Derren is said to be considering a film version. It’s a hit formula that may well give and give.
Benidorm Live plays at the Theatre Royal, Brighton till Saturday, March 2, and then continues its national tour.
When Rick said this to Ilsa in Casablanca, no one realised that it would become one of the most famous lines of all time from a film.
Notre-Dame de Paris
SO 76 years after the movie, we still, occasionally, gaze at each other and quote ‘the’ line, these days expressed with humour rather than deep passion.
Let’s go to Paris for Christmas?, said my beloved, Mais Oui?, said I. So we went.
Eurostar is just a train like any other except that it takes over an hour to get on board, never mind about passport control, it’s all automatic anyway. The main problem was the size and amount of luggage people were taking, all of which had to go through security scanners, some cases were as big as the owners and that’s saying something.
The trains were all fully booked, as it was Christmas we upgraded to Standard Premier, just as well, we had big comfy seats, lunch and drinks. Seasoned travellers as we are, on arrival at Gare du Nord we grabbed the first taxi and got royally ripped off. 35€ for a 10€ journey, only ever use a taxi with a green Parisienne Taxi sign, we knew that didn’t we?
Paris is a beautiful city at any time with thousands of tourists from the Far East and assorted US citizens. The French don’t really ‘do’ Christmas, they put a few lights up and adorn some of the more famous buildings with some glitter but apart from that not a lot happens. Christmas Day is just like any Sunday, everything is running as normal except the museums are closed, as it can take about three hours queuing to get in to most of them we gave them a miss anyway.
We checked into a rather unusual hotel in the Marais, quite nice but nothing to write home about so I won’t. It was called Les Jardins du Marais since you ask.
Sacre Coeur
Up to the Sacre Coeur on Christmas Day, we felt that we should, just to get trampled and shoved by our oriental chums. The weather was brilliant and we did get a fleeting glimpse of the view, we’d seen it before anyway. To be fair, if you have never been to Paris this is a spectacular view on a beautiful day, if you can handle the crowds, it’s worth a visit.
As this was hardly our first visit to Paris so why did we bother to go see the other famous sites but we did anyway, so Eiffel Tower ✔ Place de la Concorde ✔ the Louvre ✔the Champs Elysees ✔ etc, still there and still the same. But no sign of any yellow jackets, everything was very clean and tidy.
Centre Pompidou
We did visit the Centre Pompidou with some quite expensive advance tickets, if you like very modern art then this is for you. With over 100,000 works, the collections of the Musée National d’Art Moderne make up one of the world’s leading references for art of the 20th and 21st centuries. The building was regarded as quite bizarre in 1977, all very brutalist, but nowadays, with Frank Gehry and others, there is no real shock. The view from the top offers spectacular views of the city.
Mike and Roger cruise on the Bateaux Mouches
During our visit we also took a dinner cruise on the Bateaux Mouches. Never done that before, it’s for tourists we thought, but so are we, so we went. Not cheap, in fact quite expensive at 150€ each, it was Christmas after all. This was a complete surprise; in fact quite brilliant, amazing food and wine, incredible staff and a lovely trip right along the river. Seeing Paris by night from the boat was really very lovely and dare I say, quite romantic, my cynicism took a few hours off.
Paris can just mean shopping to some and of course Les Grands Magasins should be visited if only for the incredible Christmas decorations, there are some. Once again we were almost trampled underfoot by sharp elbowed tourists, we didn’t stay long. Here again if you go right up to the roof you get to see all of Paris, this time for free.
This is a city to walk around, but it was cold so we used the metro, buying a ‘carnet’ of 10 at a time saves money, at just 1.9 Euros per trip it’s a bargain and you can go all over the city. Tickets are available at every metro station, the machines work and are in English.
We did take an unanticipated stroll down Boulevard St Germain through the famous Latin Quarter which is stuffed with incredibly expensive boutiques and fascinating cafes as well the Sorbonne University and the Jardin du Luxembourg, but not much to see there in December.
Eiffel Tower
So yes we will always have Paris, next time it will be in the summer when all the residents are away and its only tourists. Wonderful!
You can travel to Paris in just two hours fifteen minutes on Eurostar from St Pancras International station in London, or pick it up at Ebbsfleet International and Ashford International in Kent. EasyJet fly direct from Gatwick to Charles de Gaulle airport.
November 2018 saw the 40th anniversary of the assassination of San Francisco city supervisor Harvey Milk, America’s first openly gay man to be elected to public office.
EVEN though he died years before I was born, he has had a huge influence on me intellectually, politically and spiritually. He fought for gay rights at a time when they were under direct threat in the United States.
Proposition 6 for example aimed to ban gay men and women from teaching in California’s public schools. It was so extreme even Ronald Reagan was against it! Partly due to Milk’s spirited fightback and towering leadership however, it was defeated by public ballot just three weeks before his death.
Harvey’s international profile has risen following the release of the feature film Milk in 2008 with Sean Penn in the title role, but the fact he still isn’t a household name, even amongst the gay community, is hugely disappointing to say the least as we can learn so much from him.
Yes, he was the charismatic gay icon of his time that burst into City Hall and faced down Prop 6, but Milk stood for so much more than just gay rights, and I would argue that in an era seemingly devoid of inspirational political leadership such as ours we need Harvey Milk more than ever.
Here’s five reasons why;
1. He fought for not just the civil but also the economic rights of all marginalised groups in San Francisco aside from the LGBT+ communities (the Asian community, African-Americans, Latinos, senior citizens). He also set up local associations to protect small businesses against downtown corporate interests. In our world of austerity, raising far-right nationalism, and high streets dominated by globalised chains, we are screaming out for a champion for these causes.
2. He described himself as being ‘too conservative’ for the left and ‘too liberal’ for the right as he was a fiscal conservative but also believed in social equality and justice, and the liberalisation of strict anti-drug laws. Whatever your stance on these issues, Harvey’s political perspectives encompassed both left and right-wing views, and he actively sort to build coalitions and consensus as he was desperate to prove that the political system could deliver enlightenment and greater wealth, health and happiness for all. How the Brexit process would have benefitted from similar input.
3. To get elected he took advantage of San Francisco’s move away in the mid-1970s from city-wide ballots to ‘ward politics’ where each ward in the city would elect their own representative. This meant less ‘career politicians’ in the mix, and more of a connection between citizens and their elected officials as they were much more likely to know them personally. Milk believed this, combined with his radical gay politics, had revolutionary potential. To face and overcome the challenges our society will face in the 21st century, we urgently need a much more meaningful and productive dialogue between citizens and those elected to represent them, at both local and national level.
4. Milk lived most of his life in the closet before coming out at the age of 40 and moving from his native New York to California. He worked in a variety of professions during that time including as a deep-sea diver in the US Navy, a public school teacher, an insurance actuary and researcher on Wall Street, and on Broadway backstage. He was about as far from your David Cameron-esque career politician as you could get and brought real life experience to the corridors of local power. He had the ‘common touch’ and managed to win over even hardened union leaders who wouldn’t have gone near an openly gay candidate or public official with a barge pole previously. We need our leaders to truly understand the world that most of us live in.
5. He eventually saw coming out as a political tool and he was even prepared on occasion to ‘out’ those who still refused to do it themselves. Many did and do vehemently disagree with such an approach, but this highlights another reason why Milk had genuine appeal; he didn’t just talk the talk, he walked the walk, both inside and outside of the legislative chamber. On his first day in office for example he openly stated his opposition to the election of Dianne Feinstein as President of the Board of Supervisors, but she was duly elected on a majority vote. When the Board was asked to vote again to make the decision unanimous, Milk risked political suicide by again voting against her, the only Board member to do so the second time round. Outside of City Hall he insisted on taking public transport instead of official cars when on public duty as he felt that he couldn’t preach to citizens about improvements needed to the system and then not use it himself. How many local and national government ministers can you name that go out of their way to set a similar example?
On the evening of Milk’s death, thousands walked silently from Castro Street to City Hall to honour their slain hero. One placard, held high above the crowd and illuminated by candle light, read Harvey Milk lives. We better hope so.
To quote Cleve Jones, Harvey Milk’s close friend,“He was an ordinary man, he was not a saint, he was not a genius, his personal life was often in disarray, he died penniless…and yet by his example and by his actions he most certainly changed the world.”
An appropriate way of honouring Harvey Milk’s memory would be first that our whole community give him the full recognition he deserves, and secondly to demand of our elected officials that they meet the high standards Milk set, for the good of us all.
Emma Cox sits down with the Queen of the double entendre to establish how many more ‘minces’ he has left in him.
Photo: Eddie Botsio
IF I was expecting Julian Clary to turn up to our interview in a fanfare of sequins, make-up and high camp, I’d have been sorely disappointed.
WHEN we meet at a high-end, luvvie-friendly hotel in London’s West End, Julian slips into the room unnoticed, apologises for being a couple of minutes late, and slides into a seat before ordering a pot of tea and a plate of ‘good quality’ biscuits.
I’ve read interviews describing Julian as ‘shy’ but after meeting him I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate. He’s softly spoken and unassuming, yes, and he insists that it’s just me and him in the interview as an audience makes him feel ‘self-conscious’.
But he also holds eye contact and is confident and forthright on his opinions. He’s also, as you’d expect, very funny. And no question is out-of-bounds…
Julian let’s talk about your tour first. It’s called Born To Mince, isn’t it? “Yes. The last one was The Joy of Mincing. Before that was Natural Born Mincer, Lord of the Mince, Mincing Machine. You get the general idea. I just like to get ‘mincing’ in the title. I like the word. Mincing, mince, in any formula.”
It’s only three years since your last tour. Why did you want to do another so soon? “Because I miss it, and what I have to do with my life is rotate various activities. So children’s books are lovely, and I really enjoy making children laugh, but a part of me wants to talk filth and I’m not one for depriving myself of that pleasure.”
First ambition? “I don’t know if I realised I wanted to perform until sort of puberty time.
“And then I thought I was going to be a pop star. That was the fantasy. I couldn’t sing or play a musical instrument, but I was quite convinced. Then I realised I couldn’t sing, so I thought I was going to be an actor when I left university. Then I realised I couldn’t act.
“I wrote to the Royal Shakespeare Company and the National Theatre, saying, ‘How’s about it?’ I did get a few auditions, but I was hopeless.
“So, through process of elimination, I found that the comedy world was a world where all the things where I’d had a problem with acting and singing – my voice, my mannerisms – could be an asset.”
What was your first stand-up gig? “My first acting job was with Covent Garden Community Theatre, which was touring in adventure playgrounds.
“Then someone there told me to come and do a show at the Earth Exchange, which is a vegetarian restaurant in Highgate. I did an act called Gillian Pieface, who was a faith healer.
“I was terrified. I was probably drunk. I think something must have been okay to make me want to do it again.”
When did you first dabble with make-up? “My sister was a dancer, a tiller girl. She’s four years older than me, so when she was 18 I was at an impressionable age. I used to watch her putting her make-up on and I wanted to put it on myself.
“When I started doing comedy, I was looking for a gimmick or an angle that no one else was doing, so I thought, well there you are. And it was the 80s. Perfect timing.”
What was your first appearance on television? “It was a show called ‘Live From The Hippodrome’. I was interviewed by Janet Street Porter, and top of the bill was Dusty Springfield. I didn’t realise the audience in the studio couldn’t hear me. I was trying to be funny and I wasn’t getting any laughs because they couldn’t hear me.
“It was all a bit mortifying. I went home and sat by the phone thinking I’d made it, and nothing happened.”
And your first presenting job? “It was a show called ‘Trick or Treat’ on ITV with Mike Smith. It was a Saturday early evening game show on ITV. The rather daring producer called Michael Hurll had seen me on the circuit and took a chance, so that was it.”
Where was your first panto? “It was in 1999, Cinderella at the Theatre Royal in Brighton. That was lovely. I fell in love with it there and then.
“I thought, ‘Oh, this is something that I can do’. And you can entertain adults and children at the same time. You could dress up, and you could wear makeup, and do what you like. Happy days.”
And your first reality show? “I’ve done Strictly Come Dancing and Big Brother but Strictly was first.
“I watch Strictly nowadays and I think, ‘Those poor souls’.
“We did 10 weeks. They work so hard now and the show is twice as long. And in my day you did your turn and then you went to your dressing room and had a snout. Now they have to stand there gurning in the background.
“I didn’t take it seriously when I did it. I was dancing with Erin Boag. She’s so lovely and she was such a brilliant teacher so I really got into it. They teach you things you never forget, the appreciation of music and of dance. I was lucky.
“I don’t think I’d do another one. I think I got in and out at the right time with all of those things. Big Brother became a bit humiliating towards the end, but when I did it we just sat around doing nothing much.”
Let’s talk about the outrage. Obviously you get a kick out of getting people to gasp, do you? “It’s one of life’s pleasures, in my opinion. It’s one of the reasons people come to see me: they desperately want to hear graphic descriptions of homosexual sex acts. They want to see if I’ll go too far. It livens up their otherwise dreary lives I expect. It gets the heart rate going, much like fairground rides or watching a horror movie.”
Was this more true when you started out in the 80s? “Yes… because prejudice, ignorance and fear were rife back then. I felt if you talked about the mechanics of gay sex, for example, it would be shocking to them but it would demystify it. They would leave better people than when they arrived.”
Do you feel like you have achieved that now? “Well it’s not just me, it’s just, you know, we’ve all grown up. The world’s a better place these days.”
You said people are less easily shocked, which I think is true, but they are also more easily offended these days. “I know!”
Does this give you a different challenge? “It’s funny… What were we talking about last night? I wanted to put something on Twitter. It was about the Duchess of wherever she is, the Duchess of Sussex, being pregnant. My husband said, “Yes, but who is the father?” And I thought, probably years ago I could’ve put that on Twitter and we’d have all chortled. Now, I thought,
“Well, I just can’t because it’s going to cause outrage.
“There’s this new word, ‘snowflake’, isn’t there? I would blame social media I think, where there’s people who spend all day arguing. Be very careful what you say.”
And why do you think you now care if it does cause offence? You used to court controversy. “It’s different. It’s a different sort of controversy. If it was really controversial that I was an ‘out’ gay man on television, then that’s something that I would feel more self-righteous about. Implying that the Duchess of Sussex is putting it about is probably not true at this stage of their marriage!
“So I can’t really feel self-righteous about that.
“Could you pass me the biscuits, please.”
Oh, dear me, I’m sorry. “And do have one. They’re rather more-ish.”
I’m fine, thank you. Although your humour does sometimes make people gasp, it’s also harmless and lovely and warm. Do you think that’s a fair description? “I think so. I’ve been around the block a few times and if people buy a ticket to see me, chances are they quite like me or they’ve been before. So there is a warmth and affection, but there is a sort of expectation of the boundaries being pushed a bit. So I’m happy to oblige!”
And how do you enjoy actually seeing fans in the front row – is that part of the pleasure for you?
“It rather depends on what they’re wearing. It’s a Spring tour so I’m hoping for some cheerful floral print dresses with maybe a light pashmina. That’s just the men. And did you know one in five of the general public are mad? I have to be careful who I hold eye contact with. Among celebrities the percentage is higher, of course…more like one in three. Have you ever interviewed Richard Osman? Barking!”
How much audience participation would there usually be in your shows? Should people avoid sitting in the first five rows? “No because I wander around now, so you’re not safe anywhere. I’ve always found people’s lives are more interesting than mine, and so I’m interested in talking to people and improvising, really.
“I did a straight play last year, ‘Le Grand Mort’, and it was really enjoyable, but I really had to stop myself from talking to the audience. It was in a very small theatre at Trafalgar Studios. I wanted to talk about someone’s hair and their handbag and the shoes they were wearing, and you just can’t apparently. I’m told that, when acting in play, you are expected to say the same words in the same order every night. Who knew?
“I had to stop myself from seeing the audience whereas I’m very alert to them when I’m doing my own show.
“It’s such freedom to be able to say what you want, and maybe go down a blind alley, or create a bit of comedy, magic perhaps if you’re lucky, if the wind’s in the right direction. I do like it more than anything.”
And yet there’s a line in the press release which says ‘this might be the final mince?’. Does that mean you’re thinking of retiring? “Yes, it was rather lame of me to say that but I suppose it’s because I am 60 during this tour.
“I’ll be in Bury St Edmunds and I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be for my birthday than on stage in Bury St Edmunds. And I do think it might be the last one. Because at what age does it become inappropriate to talk about things that I talk about?
“I also wonder, would people want to see much more of me? I’m quite drawn to the idea of being a recluse. I’ll lock myself away, watching Cash in the Attic and live in filth. People will wander past my house in years to come and say ‘That’s where Mr Clary lives. He’s let himself go. To think he once pleasured the entire Llowestoft Rugby Team in one drug fuelled night. And now he’s lying there caked in his own excrement…”
You are very different in real life than your stage persona? “Yes. Thank goodness. I also… if I don’t become a recluse…I’m quite fanciful of a change of direction when I’m 60, doing something different. I think it’s important to stretch yourself, don’t you? Chocolate finger?
“But what I don’t want to do is say ‘This is the final tour’ then everyone will say, ‘Oh I’d better go and see him before he dies’, then five years later I’m back. I always feel slightly conned when people do that.
“So what I’m thinking is don’t be surprised if it is my last tour, but then again, the old age mincer might be coming your way in five years time. If I’ve got a tax bill I can’t afford or my husband has run off with Christopher Biggins.”
In the meantime you’ve got a panto coming up this year and that’s something you’ve done many times. Why do you like panto so much? “It’s kind of a perfect hybrid between stand-up comedy and storytelling. You’re allowed to step out of the scene and comment, and I’m allowed to talk about someone’s coughing. I’m allowed to pick on the audience. It’s a pity they let children in, but you can’t have everything.
“I like being part of a big ensemble and these shows are very lavish.
“I’ve got about 13 costumes this year and they’re not being made by the costume department, they’re being made by the scenery department because they’re so huge. You’ll be able to see my head poking out the middle.”
And you’ve got Dawn French joining you this year as well, of course? “Yes, that’s very exciting. She’s a game old gal, much like myself. We have met over the years but we’ve never been on stage before. It should be a scream.”
Your tour goes to the Palladium as well? “Yes, I finish up the tour there. So that’s a perfect full circle.
“I did my show there years ago, ‘My Glittering Passage’, I think it was, and it’s a Frank Matcham theatre like the Hackney Empire. They’re built for variety, so they really work for comedy. There’s no getting away from it, it’s got a certain magic about it, the Palladium.”
Do you enjoy the actual travelling part of touring? “Yes, I tour with one tour manager, and we travel together. Bertha has done my tours for the last 25 years so we know each other. When she first came to be my driver she was lactating, she’d just had a baby, and she’s a very safe driver, part of her motherly instincts, self-preservation for her children.
“She’s the only driver that I’ve ever had where I’ve dared to close my eyes, because I’m a very nervous passenger. Her children are now at university, if they haven’t graduated already. So, yes, we know each other really well, I trust her, and we have a laugh but I don’t have to make small talk either.
“I like being in a different town each night, a different theatre.
“I never get bored because it’s always really … “Harrogate, hurrah!”
Do the audiences vary hugely, depending on where you are in the country? “Yes, they do. The rumour used to be that they’re more extroverted up north, and they’re more sitting with their arms crossed in the south, but I don’t think that’s true any more. You never know how it’s going to feel. I don’t play Chatham any more because it’s a s**t hole.”
Why? What happened at Chatham? “They didn’t laugh. Fifteen years ago, it was. Scarred me for life.”
Is there a particular favourite town or city? “Glasgow. They’re so funny, so witty. And they heckle, which I’ve always liked. I love everywhere I’m going, or I wouldn’t go there, and the Palladium will be special. Cardiff, St David’s Hall, that will be lovely. Harrogate’s a beautiful theatre.”
And how do you feel about heckling? “I think if you’ve paid for your ticket, you can do whatever you want. I often have a set-to with the theatre staff because people take photos, and you see the ushers creeping down the aisles and shh-ing and wagging their fingers and telling people they can’t, so then I go down and say ‘yes you can’, and pose for photos with them.
“Of course you can take a photo, you paid £25. I mean, why not? It’s not a Chekov play, you can eat, drink, take photos, you can shout out. You can urinate in an empty cider can if you must, I don’t care.”
Photo: Steve Ullathorne
Do you have any other unfulfilled ambitions that you haven’t done yet? Other than the straight acting that you mentioned earlier. “I quite fancy doing another volume of my autobiography. I want to call it A Night at the Lubricant. I spent weeks thinking up funny titles. My last autobiography finished in 1993 so there’s a lot to say.”
Did you enjoy writing it? “Oh, I loved it. I love delving in. It’s funny, the human brain. You think you don’t think you remember but you start digging around and it’s all still in there.”
Do you think the tone of the second one will be quite different from 1993? “Yes. I think you’re different from your 60s to your 30s. Thank goodness.”
Are you happier now than you were in your 30s? “Yes, and I think that’s the compensation for getting older, isn’t it?”
BORN TO MINCEJulian Clary’s brand new stand-up show, tours the UK from March 13 – June 8, 2019 and comes to the Brighton Dome for one night on Sunday, April 28. Julian’s fourth children’s book THE BOLDS IN TROUBLE is out now, and his fifth book THE BOLDS GO WILD is out in March 2019. Tickets cost £26/£24.
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