In his icebreaker conversations with audience members in the front row – what I call the Blind Date introductions (in which there is a variation of the question Cilla Black used to ask on that show, “What’s your name and where do you come from?”) it occurred to me that there are some things Julian Clary does conventionally. I wasn’t sure what to expect, really, and his line about “fisting Norman Lamont – talk about a red box!” garnered as much laughter from an Edinburgh Fringe audience in 2026 as it did when he first said it at the British Comedy Awards in 1993. By this point, Lamont had been succeeded by Kenneth Clarke as Chancellor of the Exchequer, so quite why he was there was beyond Clary’s comprehension, and as nobody else had said anything, he decided he’d go for the jugular.
Back at the Edinburgh Fringe for the first time in 17 years, in the 5:30pm slot (Really? Not even 7:30pm? I’d have put him in the 9:30pm slot personally) – you’d be forgiven for wondering if there was anything left for Clary to reveal. With several London Palladium pantos completed – he’s back there this festive season – that alone would have been enough to fill an hour of behind-the-scenes recollections of what went on. His tribute to the late Paul O’Grady was a delight to listen to, and characteristically smutty.
A Fringe audience going into see Julian Clary on stage knows what they are in for, and this comedy hour turned out to be a romp through the archives, a series of recollections about, amongst other things, Fanny the Wonderdog and playing the Emcee in Cabaret in the West End. But for all the highs, there were some deep lows, particularly the death of his boyfriend Christopher in 1991, and how work dried up for him after the Lamont thing, Clary becoming an early casualty, if you please, of what was later to become known as ‘cancel culture’.
Still, no regrets – and that’s just how it ought to be. A couple of songs thrown in, too – my favourite was one about how “life’s a c—-”, which is hard to disagree with in the times in which we live. Disarmingly revealing and utterly delightful.
Review by Chris Omaweng
“It’s too early for filth, so think cucumber sandwiches and cream teas. No, not cucumbers, in case I accidentally shove one up my jacksie. Old habits die hard.
“I have decided to open up to the public and reveal all. No more hiding behind a stage persona – I’m going to be myself. The question is will you be able to tell the difference?
“In this show I will reveal intimate secrets of my life and share the traumas that have led me to lead the life of a camp comic and renowned homosexual.”
JULIAN CLARY: FULLY DILATED
Assembly Rooms at the Edinburgh Fringe
14 to 23 August 2026
