Stanley Baxter, comic actor whose TV extravaganzas and female impersonations won vast audiences

In 1991 Baxter performed the last in a long, illustrious list of Dames, Mother Goose at the King’s Theatre, Glasgow, and little else followed. As he considered anxiety to have been the principal emotion he felt throughout his career, there was a certain amount of relief – “A life without stress – you cannae whack it!” – but, as his powers of mimicry, and nimble step remained intact for some years after his retirement, there were often calls for a return.

Baxter, though, claimed that his best days were behind him on account of the changing nature of female film stars of whom he found it difficult to get the measure. “It’s hard to find their distinguishing features; Michelle Pfeiffer is a very beautiful woman but I’ve no idea where the padding should go.”

Stanley Livingstone Baxter was born at Kelvinside, Glasgow, on May 24 1926. His father, Fred, an insurance actuary, was the assistant branch manager of the Commercial Union, while his flamboyant mother, Bessie, played mah-jong and smoked blue-and-red Russian cigarettes. In adulthood, Baxter blamed the First World War for creating the circumstances which led to such a mismatch: “Och, I never really loved him,” his mother used to say of Fred, “but he was a good provider.”

She was eager that young Stanley should follow more in her footsteps – “Don’t be like the Baxters,” she would advise him, “they’re awfully boring, kirky and boring. Be like the McCorquodales” – and encouraged him to do his Mae West impressions for friends and relatives.