Gig review: Tony Christie at Theatre Royal Wakefield
Three years after taking a 2021 dementia diagnosis public, the Conisbrough-born crooner continues to defy the odds on this genial, touching send-off of a tour.
“You’ve been such a lovely audience this evening,” Tony Christie intones, arms spread wide with magnanimous gratitude, after only the one song at the Theatre Royal Wakefield. “And now, we’d like to close with…”
The Conisbrough-born crooner makes to leave the stage, then raises an arched eyebrow with a come-hither titter. “Have I got it wrong again?” he quips, then offers a generous laugh. “Matron!”
There’s more than a practiced quip about aging faculties at play here. Just over three years ago, Christie – real name Anthony Fitzgerald – went public with a 2021 dementia diagnosis and a wry defiance against the notion it would end his career. That he stands here tonight, amid what is billed as an unplugged farewell tour, suggests his conviction remains ironclad, even as he finds himself at the tail-end of an oft-fascinating life that spanned European lounge-singer stardom to national treasure status through some curious leftfield turns.
Accompanied by a pared-back four-piece – acoustic guitar and bass, keys and pedal lap steel – that recasts the high-drama glitz of his balladeer catalogue with a western-infused melancholia, the 82-year-old proves to be a shrewd performer, even if he does lose his way a few times.
Though he may not have the range of his heyday, he can still deploy the emotional tenor behind it; Las Vegas becomes a fragile campfire rumination, while soft-shuffle takes on country staples Mr Bojangles and Daddy Don’t You Walk So Fast carry plaintive power. Perhaps unexpectedly, Just Like Yesterday – penned for Christie by Graham Gouldman of 10cc fame – proves a shivery highlight, freighted with the heavy heft of emotion.
A second act delivers more defining hits – I Did What I Did for Maria, Avenues and Alleyways, a careworn cover of the Eagles classic Desperado – as Christie roams across the four corners of his oeuvre; a dryly amusing anecdote about his work on famed musical Evita draws plenty of chuckles.
By the time he reaches the natural finale of (Is This the Way to) Amarillo, he still has a cheery grin painted across his face. “All that remains is for me to say thank you,” he offers, before Thank You for Being a Friend; a fitting capstone to a genial, touching send-off.