THIS IS A PARTIAL ACCOUNT OF A man who was larger than life in every way. Fans of Chic Murray, including all those who may have met him and formed an impression, even in passing, will appreciate its devotion to its subject. It captures his essence.
From the outset, Grigor tells us his purpose was "to pay tribute to the memory of an outstanding and original comedic craftsman and to remind us of a remarkable man who left a legacy of gold-embossed memories of helpless laughter and intense happiness … This book, then, with the help of Chic's family, sets out – wherever possible – to be a happy one!".
Note well that exclamation mark. Readers acquainted with tabloid-style blood-on-the-floor betrayals, or revelations of showbiz excess, will find in this book the novelty of good humour and tacit restraint. Robbie Grigor was an acquaintance turned friend of Murray's, a fan. He writes from the inside, knowing well the comedian's coterie, knowing more than he puts on the page.
At times he drops hints. You can tell where his sympathies lie when it comes to Chic's relationship with Maidie, the showbusiness partner on whom Chic depended, the wife Chic adored, and at times took for granted before she divorced him, something you sense she did with reluctance but little option.
Chic was complex, slow to realise the uniqueness of his own talent, yet also ambitious once the momentum of his rise was in the ascendant. Born in Greenock in 1919, he grew up secure, forming a hillbilly group, expressing his musical talent on several instruments, and throughout it all, greatly encouraged, first by his mother, Isabella, and then by Maidie, herself a seasoned showbiz pro before she met Chic.
Maidie realised that their double-act was redundant long before Chic did. He often frustrated her, making late entrances on stage (lamentable time-keeping being one of his lifelong vices), and more and more hogging (with Maidie's blessing) their time in the spotlight, telling gags and honing his patter. Maidie was busy. She had their two children to raise, and being at Chic's beck and call, and doing the driving to all their engagements, took its toll, while Chic increasingly over-ate and indulged his growing penchant for booze.
Of all the big breaks in Chic's career, Maidie was probably the luckiest. She recognised his talent, nurtured and humoured him, and encouraged his growing ambition. Grigor, unfussily, and in a prose style that never gets in the way of the story, charts their slog around the seaside theatres of Scotland, their gradual rise to recognition, playing Christmas shows, conquering London, touring abroad, gaining sheaves of warm reviews and public acclaim as they climbed up the bill, and cast (this was true of Chic at least) a hungry gaze towards north America, before Maidie duly absented herself in her wisdom, and Chic walked alone.
He had tough breaks too – a Royal Variety Show in 1956, suddenly cancelled because of the British invasion of Suez. Then, worst of all, the impresario Nate Silverstein, who had backed him to play New York City – Chic's opening gambit in his attempt to break the States – was horrifically killed in a traffic pile-up. Chic's devastation was immense, but life continued, and with it came plaudits from fellow professionals. Much is made of Chic's impression on Billy Connolly, and of the friendship that ensued.
Connolly's foreword to the book is beautifully written and smacks of affection undiminished. "Like a lot of funny men, he was blessed with a funny appearance…a beautiful, jovial, round Halloween-cake- face, which never failed to make me smile."
But Chic was also blessed with the gift of perfect timing. The book's greatest bonus is the inclusion, in its margins, of his wisecracks, along with routines, reproduced in full throughout the text. Read cold, the material sometimes feels flatter than it should. You have to hear it, in the mind's ear, in Chic's own voice, to get the impact. Readers lucky enough to have seen him tread the boards will, as they read, not only hear that droll delivery, but see him again, bunnet perched, in a world of his own, rolling his genius all the way home.
The full article contains 727 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
