Shutting the door for the last time

Mark Wareham
Friday 03 March 1995 00:02 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

To a generation of thirtysomethings, the words "Larry" and "Grayson" signify little more than a limp-wristed flouncer whose incomprehensibly unfunny catchphrase, "Shut that Door", helped earn him celebrity status as the new Bruce Forsyth on The Generation Game in the late Seventies.

Looking back, it's not easy to detect the humour inherent in the lyrics to some of his trademark songs - "Shut that door, shut that door / It's freezing cold in here / Shut that door, Shut that door / I'm feeling rather queer." But there's no denying the emotional responses he provoked in his admirers. Entertainers don't actually die, by the way, because, as Isla St Clair herself says in today's Radio 2 tribute (1.30pm), "Larry left behind a legacy of laughter that's still ringing...", but when Larry "passed on", he was destined to go down as "one of the nicest men in showbiz", and that really says it all.

You might expect a tribute to most funnymen to shake your shoulders with mirth, but instead the likes of Dora Bryan and Pat Coombs wade weepily about in a sea of maudlin goo. Tuesday's BBC1 tribute (8.30pm) promises to be equally upsetting. Still, he was a very nice man and perhaps the best way to remember him is by imagining him pushing his hoover around his modest bungalow in Nuneaton (he was very house-proud, you know), wearing his pinny, and singing along to Judy Garland. That was Larry.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in