Barry’s blessing: Cryer with laughter!

A bout 10 years ago I made the journey… no, a pilgrimage… to The Theatrebarn in Bretforton near Evesham on the edge of the Cotswolds. It added a new dimension to ‘out of the way’. To any Londoner, it was a drive that entailed several “Where the hell are we?” and “This can’t be right!” moments. I was travelling for one purpose only – to see my comedy hero, the magnificent Barry Cryer.

The thought of sitting in an intimate venue for an evening watching the ‘master’ at work was the fulfilment of many years of unashamed admiration. It was, of course, a masterclass in storytelling, razor-sharp comic timing and how to engage, seemingly effortlessly, with an audience for two hours, armed with nothing more than a microphone and a lifetime of wit. In the following years, I was blessed by being in Barry’s company at dinners and luncheons, bathing in his all-encompassing warmth and charm.

It was a testament to just how universally loved Barry Cryer was, that when he died on January 25th, not even the sewer that masquerades as ‘social media’ contained one negative comment. It was an outpouring of love and unadulterated adoration from his peers, the public and anyone whom he had touched with his legendary humour.

Barry’s son, Bob, recently said: “Incidentally, he never really liked the terms ‘comedy writer’ or ‘comedian’, instead preferring ‘hack’ and ‘entertainer’, and always thought the term ‘national treasure’ meant he’d just been dug up. He was, in his words, arrogant in his humility.”

That, indeed, was the man.

This being Jewish News, the first question every reader will be asking is: “Yeah, fine, but was he a clan member?” Well, depending on your definition, he was, or at least half of him was, because Barry, who was born in Leeds in 1935, was the son of Carl Cryer, a Jewish accountant. There you go – a double whammy! A Jew and an accountant. Top Trumps.

Tragically, Barry was only five when his father died, as the comedian reflected: “I have very few memories of him, which is a big sadness. My mum, Jean, was wonderful bringing up my brother and me. She died in 1986.”

Despite the loss of his Jewish father, Barry still gravitated towards the Leeds community and had Jewish friends, including the rabbi’s son. He also loved the humour of the great Jewish comedians Sid Caesar, Mel Brooks, Carl Reiner, George Burns, Lenny Bruce, Garry Shandling and Phil Silvers.

There’s no doubt his roots, pals and taste in performers inspired the comedian’s natural sense of humour and certainly some of his notable Jewish jokes. Cryer classics  include: “Jewish scientists are reported to have discovered five new ways of disappointing their mothers.”

Or: “Four Jewish ladies  have lunch in a restaurant. The waiter approaches when they’ve finished and asks, ‘Was anything all right?”

My favourite? “Quick: the noise made by a dyslexic duck.”

Beloved by other comedians, they were the first to mourn his loss and rave about his natural talent and Steve Furst remembers how helpful Barry was when he was starting the comedy magazine The Heckler back in 1990.

“Barry really championed our corner,” he recalls. “He would sit with us for hours in the Old Coffee House smoking Consulates and regaling us comedy nerds with astonishing stories. He always had time for young comics breaking through and was universally loved.”

Furst, whose Jewish alter-ego is cabaret star Lenny Beige, insists that Barry, despite his dislike of being branded a national treasure, most definitely was one. “He served, wrote and facilitated so many other national treasures – Morecambe and Wise, The Two Ronnies, Kenny Everett… To many in the comedy fraternity, he was more than just
a writer or comedy personality – he was a paragon of professionalism, a man who took the time to dive deep into what was coming next, not just bolster those on a higher rung of the ladder.”

• Catch Barry’s last laughs on his first brilliant podcast with his  son Bob and other mirth-makers

For Raymond Simonson, chief executive of JW3, Barry will always be the mensch who saved the day – well, actually, the night. “In 2014, I was organising JW3’s first anniversary fundraising dinner. One week before, our guest speaker pulled out. Panic!” Well-connected and with bounds of energy, Raymond desperately tried to pull in favours to get another (free) guest star.

“But I failed, “ he recalls. “Then Barry Cryer agreed and, after negotiating a reasonable fee – which was a lot for us at the time – he took part in a chat-show style 30 minutes with a Jewish joke-off that was side-splittingly funny. He was the most Jewish non-Jewish guest ever. The next day I called to thank him personally and ask for his invoice and bank details, but he refused.

“Barry said he’d had such a wonderful evening with our fantastic hospitality and great food, and was so inspired by the incredible work of JW3 that he insisted on donating his fee towards our charitable activities.
Oh, and he didn’t want any public recognition or press.”

For Raymond, who spends his working life trying to secure talent for JW3,it doesn’t get better than that. “In a ‘showbiz’ world where naked greed is revoltingly abundant, this was wonderfully refreshing – but that was the mark of Barry Cryer, a true mensch.”

For me, this encapsulates the brilliance of this much-loved, much-admired and now, sadly, much-missed man. As Barry wisely said: “Analysing comedy is like dissecting a frog. Nobody laughs and the frog dies.” Funny is funny so, thank you, Barry, for decades of wit, humour and charm.

Your memory will, indeed, be a blessing.