King’s Theatre, Glasgow
Four stars
When senior public figures publish a warts and all memoir, it is customary for them these days to go on a high profile promotional tour. Some enjoy meeting their public so much that the stars in their eyes get the better of them, and they join the showbiz sleb set, with everything they might have previously achieved lost in the razzmatazz.
So it goes with Scottish Police Chief Commissioner Cameron Miekelson, the hapless breakout star of comic cop mock doc, Scot Squad. As brought to life by veteran comedy auteur Jack Docherty, the Chief, or Cam the Bam, as he is known disaffectionately among what he might call his online community, has penned No Apologies. This tome is based on the befuddled Commissioner’s terminally unreconstructed way of saying the wrong thing on a public platform.
As the title implies, Miekelson manages to bluster his way into an ever-deeper hole with every utterance. This shows off an all too recognisable sense of self-righteousness and lack of self-awareness that only a former Edinburgh public school boy thrust into high office beyond his capabilities can muster.
Docherty translates the Chief’s public face into a two act show that takes the book launch format and gives it the Masonic fruitiness of the sort of after dinner speeches heard in men only type institutions. In between reading excerpts from his masterpiece, this emboldens Cameron to wax forth on all manner of things affecting his tenure. On the agenda are the perils of diversity, the protocols of managing protest around visiting American dignitaries, the creative possibilities of AI, and the never-ending war on drugs. Then there are the Chief’s redacted encounters with royalty, assorted exchanges with former First Ministers, plus the odd personal confessional that sound like a shoe-in for the literary bad sex award.
Docherty’s show was first seen on stage several Edinburgh Festival Fringes ago, and has been expanded for extensive tour that began on Sunday as part of Glasgow International Comedy Festival. One suspects Docherty has to remain light on his feet in terms of updating material in response to the shifting fortunes of real life figures he incorporates into his act. Familiar routines from the Chief’s small screen incarnation, meanwhile, such as the 1970s time capsule, have become greatest hits.
By the end, Docherty’s creation is akin to a Partridgesque Viz comic character come to grotesque life in a way that makes both Miekelson’s own prejudices and some of the absurdities around him appear refreshingly ridiculous. Hail to the Chief for that.
The Herald, March 24th 2026
Ends
Comments