…and this is my friend Mr Laurel, Georgian Theatre Royal, Richmond

STAN Laurel has a special place in my heart; he and I share the same birthplace – a lovely little town that was in Lancashire called Ulverston, now creatively moved by the local authorities into Cumbria.

Now, we find him in his best suit, and of course his famous Derby hat, in the hands of Jeffry Holland (Hi-de-Hi, You Rang M’Lord) who is fulfilling a long-held desire to pay tribute to his hero. It’s late in the day for two of Holywood’s greatest film comedians as Oliver Hardy is gravely ill in his California home and Stan is visiting. "How are you doing babe?” he enquires of a stark white, empty bed frame. Holland makes it easy to imagine his friend laying on the bed and when he goes to check whether Hardy’s catheter is full it’s automatic to look for oneself.

Between the platitudes Stan tries to cheer up his friend with reminiscences of their time together, recanting stories, mostly about his own marriages and with ten weddings between them he tells Hardy that he’s happy at last. “I married some of them a few times mostly to check I wasn’t wrong the first time.”

There’s a poignant sadness to the empty stage, but as the lights dim he pulls on his hat and tells a few jokes. It’s amazing how easily Holland becomes Stan and just for a few moments the man with the silly grin is really there.

“I know something you can’t do.” he says, and replying to himself in Oliver’s American Twang. "What’s that then babe?”

“You can’t strike a match on a bar of soap.”

And those blue ridge mountains of Virginia still pine for the lonesome.

Helen Brown