I never met Barry Cryer, but I do have a memory of him, which seems characteristic of those generated by this great life-affirmer. One sunny afternoon about 20 years ago, I saw him on a ferry going to the Isle of Wight. He was smoking on the open deck and laughing with another white-haired gent. A few hours later, when I was walking past the pretty theatre in Shanklin on the island, I saw that the marquee proclaimed: “Tonight: Barry Cryer and Colin Sell.” I was a good distance away from the theatre entrance; even so, I could hear the laughter from within.
Sell – the other white-haired gent – is the pianist on the surreal and genuinely hilarious Radio 4 gameshow I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue, on which Cryer was a regular panellist. But I had recognised Cryer from earlier ventures: 70s TV shows such as Hello Cheeky and Jokers Wild – unpretentious, effervescent titles that echoed the names of the stage revues he’d written for in the early 60s: And Another Thing, On the Brighter Side.
