Comedian;
Born: December 25, 1925; Died: March 14, 2013.
NORMAN Collier, who has died at the age of 87, was the Yorkshire-born comedian whose act was defined by a faulty microphone routine. While he became famous for pretending his mike lead worked in fits and starts, he had so much more to offer audiences. He simply had funny bones. Jimmy Tarbuck would later dub his chum "the comedian's comedian" and the accolade was never contested.
Collier later said he had to develop a sense of humour being the oldest of eight kids, sometimes sleeping five to a bed. "It was hard work," he said of the time. "It fell to me to go on errands and I even had to wash the kids. I used to heat up the water, stand the children on the table, wash them one at a time and put them to bed.
"We were like rats in a box, arguing over silly things. We would be sitting at the table and saying, 'Mum, his elbow's near mine'. We were always looking for a fight."
Collier, who was born in Hull, fought in the Second World War, serving as a gunner on an aircraft carrier. Demobbed in 1945, he worked as a labourer and two years later, aged 21, met his wife, Lucy. The highlight of their wedding reception was, he recalled, a bit of boiled ham.
That same year Collier's life changed dramatically for a very different reason. One night while enjoying a pint with pal Charlie in his local, Perth Street West Social Club, the booked comedy act failed to show. Collier had never been on stage before but he filled in. "It was as if I'd been doing it all my life," he said.
Comedy stardom was still some way off. He continued with his day job at the BP chemical factory in east Hull but the response to his little routines performed during breaks saw workmates and managers laugh so much he was encouraged onto the wider northern club scene.
In 1962 he left the chemical plant behind to become a full-time comic and was so successful he was approached by Lou Grade's London-based agency to tour with the likes of Cliff and the The Shadows and The Everly Brothers.
Collier said he'd rather stay in Hull, thanks very much, but the money offer was upped and off he went to join the pop circuit. Each day he would set off carrying Lucy's sandwiches in a box, and each night, regardless of where he played in the UK, he'd return to East Yorkshire.
It was his debut at the 1971 Royal Variety Performance that brought him national acclaim. "Unknown comedian Norman Collier won a standing ovation for his act in the Royal Variety Show," wrote one national newspaper.
He was now a celebrity, performing the role of northern club compere trying to battle against his "broken" microphone. But there was more to Collier's act. His chicken routine, for example, in which he used his out-turned jacket to suggest the fowl's wings was far funnier than it sounds. Collier also created the "club chairman" character, later popularised by Colin Crompton in the ITV series Wheeltappers and Shunters Club.
Yet, while Collier achieved television success in shows such as ITV's series Ace of Clubs, in which club entertainers were pitted against each other, television wasn't his natural medium. The soundbite demands of television work never reflected the detailed and large-scale routines that characterised his brilliant club work.
Collier wasn't a gag teller; he simply told very funny stories. That's why, despite his massive club success (fellow professionals such as Frank Carson and Les Dawson continually sang his praises) he was never a participant in the hit 1970s ITV series, The Comedians.
Collier was not a tragic clown. His personal life was blissful. He always refused offers to move to London and was far from the desperate performer who can't survive outside the glare of bright lights. Indeed, the title of his autobiography, Just A Job, summed up his attitude to showbusiness.
He was simply a comic who loved to make people laugh whether telling stories or as a pantomime dame at Hull's New Theatre as Widow Twanky. He loved working so much he was still touring just two years ago, alongside the likes of Cannon and Ball and Bucks Fizz in The Best of British Variety.
"It's kept me in good health, making people laugh," he said of his career. "And it's kept them in good health too."
He is survived by his wife of 64 years, Lucy, three children, five grandchildren and three great grandchildren.
