A mixed bag of acts to open the Walpole Park’s festival, but overall a decent night out.

Julian Clary headlining the first night was bound to pull in the crowds and so this first night was a sellout, and definitely from the older end of the spectrum.

Delivering a typically smutty set as expected, Clary shared a long shaggy dog story about how he saved Joan Collins’ life, by way of noting his ageing ailments (policeman’s heel, housemaid’s knee, and male prostitute’s rectum: ‘gentlemen callers have been temporarily blinded’) and talking about his domestic arrangements in Kent with boyfriend Rolf – who has a boring office job and understands how to work an enema kit.

Looking great under the eyeliner and red lipstick it is impossible to believe Julian has hit fifty-six, but age hasn’t tempered his sweetly – delivered guy puns, and it was a delight to see him and his final song of ‘Frankie and Johnny’, of civil partners where one couldn’t help but stray.

Supporting acts Justin Moorhouse – a funny fat lad from Blackpool who started well but wandered into slightly weird territory – and irritatingly middle – class Shabbi Khorsandi¬† (who overstayed her welcome) were complimented by Geordie¬† exile Mickey Hutton,¬† who hasn’t been living up north for twenty – five years but still has an act which pokes fun at the London he calls home.

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