The unforgettable Les Dawson died almost 30 years ago, but thanks to the skill of impressionist Jon Culshaw, he could be on the phone right now. “You’ve just got to gargle with a bit of peagrit out the fish tank to get yourself limbered up,” he jokes in the comic’s unmistakeable gravelly voice.
Jon is chatting about his new one-man play, Les Dawson: Flying High. It is, he says, “a love letter” to the rubber-faced genius who won the nation’s hearts following his 1967 appearance on talent show Opportunity Knocks. It recreates his best bits: the chats between bosom buddies Cissie and Ada, the mother- in-law gags, the off piano-playing. It also sees Les – on a transatlantic flight – recall moments from his life for his memoirs after being given a dictaphone by his publisher.
The 54-year-old has adored Les since childhood. “When I was seven, watching him on TV in the living room in Holborn Hill, Ormskirk, I simply enjoyed the joyfulness of it all. Later, all these other senses of appreciation come into play. For his timing, for his use of words and for the rhythms in which he tells the story. For the subtlety of his reactions, the sense of the unexpected.”
Dressing up as Les and seeing him looking back from the mirror for the first time was, he says, “Rather lovely. You feel almost possessed. It affects your body language and mood. You take on his style, motion and stance. Then, you start to talk to everybody as Les. You do little gurns and people just smile. The joyfulness in the room shoots up. It’s lovely. I was reluctant to take off my suit and put my jumper back on.
"When I was seven, watching him on TV in the living room, I simply enjoyed the joyfulness of it all."
Both Lancashire lads, Jon found he and Les have lots in common. “A love of character,” he says. “Growing up with Cissies and Adas shapes you and your comedy. They were like the women Mum played bingo with.” They also had teachers who encouraged them. One scene sees a teacher ask Les: “‘If you’ve £3 in one pocket and £2 in the other, what have you got?’” He replies: “‘Someone else’s trousers on.’” “Maths was not his strong point,” laughs Jon, “so he used comedy.
Jon began his career as a DJ in regional radio where he’d do the odd impression. “When I started, I was 19 and Yours was always in the armoury,” he reveals. “You’d spot a story and it’d turn into an anecdote to say over the intro to Hotel California. I had my own craft scissors and I'd cut the story out and keep it in a wallet file.”
He went on to voice everyone from John Major to Bill Clinton for Spitting Image. Then, on Capital Radio in 1998, he prank-called 10 Downing Street impersonating William Hague and was put through to PM Tony Blair. Their exchange went global. Jon had arrived. Soon after, Radio 4’s topical satire Dead Ringers began.
Today, Jon ping-pongs between Ormskirk and London to record the show. “I never got round to getting married or anything like that,” he says. “Life’s been too mercurial. Maybe I'm approaching the maturity of mind where that feels appealing.”
When Les died from a heart attack at 62 in 1993, Jon says: “I couldn't believe it. I might’ve said an expletive because, oh, it was far too soon. He had so much more to do. He was getting into acting. BAFTAs were coming.”
What does Jon think he’d make of a play about his life? “I did ask the actor Robert Powell, a mate of his and mine, and he said: ‘Oh, he'd be very flattered...’ Maybe there was a sign of his opinion when Les’s widow, Tracy, visited rehearsals. “I was wearing the big bracelet,” says Jon
of the comic’s trademark accessory, “which, during one gesticulation, flew off across the stage. I bent down to pick it up and ripped my trousers. Tracy said: ‘I bet that's Les. That’ll be his way of having fun.’”
Jon's life lessons
Practice makes perfect
Growing up I used to watch my dad, a former Royal engineer, making his own furniture. He built everything in the house – the kitchen, the wardrobes, the shed – I saw how he crafted and honed them with precision, and that’s what I have tried to do over the years with my career.
With a script, and certain aspects, you have to learn to make things work and fit together. I have tried to carry my dad's work ethic into a different field.
My watershed moment
I first started doing impressions as a child; I’d affectionately copy local characters to my family and they caused much merriment and I thought ‘I like this.’ At 18, I volunteered at Ormskirk Hospital Radio and learnt to talk between records and it went from there. Years later interviewing Lenny Henry I did my impression of Frank Bruno and he said: ‘You are really good’, and suggested I send a tape to Spitting Image. So I did. When Steve Coogan left the show in 1994 it created an opening for me and it was a watershed moment. During my time on the show, I voiced more than 40 characters.
It’s good to laugh
You are in big trouble if you can’t find humour in day-to-day life; you just have to. I believe there is always a way of seeing the funny side of things, and that’s what carries you through. Humour helped me get through a difficult time in 2011, when both my parents died within a short time of each other. First my mum Theresa at 84, and then my dad Jim at 92 about 14 months later. They were married for 63 years. He was always her protector and I think he recognised that if he had gone first and left her behind, she could not have coped. He knew he was carrying that burden of heartache, so she didn’t have to. That is true love. We were lucky that we were able to be with them during their illnesses when you think of recent times.
Heroes are important
Positive role models can inspire you. The late astronomer Sir Patrick Moore was a close friend of mine. I love astronomy and he is such an iconic figure that I was utterly starstruck meeting him. Years later I was asked to re-create the first episode of The Sky At Night, which was never recorded, for the programme’s 50th anniversary. After persuasion, Sir Patrick agreed, with me dressed as the young Patrick interacting with the older Patrick. There was such a rapport, it was like I was his long-lost twin!
The skies are breathtaking
I am a huge fan of star gazing. I’m now a Fellow at the Royal Astronomical Society. One of the most spectacular things I have ever seen in my life was the total solar eclipse in March 2015. I was on a ship in the Faroe Islands and it was rainy and then suddenly the clouds lifted and there it was – so breathtaking. Solar eclipses are the greatest sight in the whole of nature and I’ve been lucky to see three of them.
Quietness is precious
During the last year I’ve adjusted to going at a slower pace and being quiet. It stripped away a lot of the noise and what was unnecessary. It was good to find a little more simplicity and connect with things that are better for us. I have always loved my own company so I used that time to pause and take stock and see what could be learnt. I enjoy sitting in the garden looking at the stars or watching butterflies on my buddleia. There is nothing more relaxing. When nature does its thing it’s the best.
Les Dawson: Flying High tours the UK from September 22. For tickets, visit the So Comedy here