It’s 1995, and we’re in the study of Bob Monkhouse. Two of his folders have gone missing, filled with a record of his jokes, and to make matters worse he needs to write a speech for the memorial of his former comedy partner Dennis Goodwin, twenty years on from his death.
For the Monkhouse fans, The Man Called Monkhouse will undoubtedly hold delights, but this is entirely due to their existing love of the man. The play trades completely on nostalgia.
The Man Called Monkhouse flits between elements of his comedy with glances at him in the studio filming game shows, with his back-story reveled as he attempts to compose the memorial speech. Although the work hints at the possibility of going down a more interesting path, with a brief foray into Monkhouse’s mind being caught in worry about the way the world—and the critics—perceive him, this lasts only for a moment and we come away feeling short changed.
For fans, the work is successful: a welcome revisiting of a time long past. For those, however, who feel no nostalgia for times where female workmates could be called “sexy”, or for a time where jokes about sperm and flaccid penises marked the height of comedy, there is little in this work, narratively or theatrically. It is possible to use theatre to look back on characters in a way that rises beyond nostalgia. Unfortunately, The Man Called Monkhouse isn’t that show.