Robbie Williams review: Ultimate pop entertainer still punches his weight

He knows how to make an entrance: a pre-recorded mock national anthem (“God Bless Our Robbie”), a feverish build-up modelled on a title fight, a couple of chest-beating tunes and the emphatic announcement, “My name is Robbie f***ing Williams!”

During blustering album title track The Heavy Entertainment Show, female dancers arrived wearing boxing gloves and not much else. Williams also dressed for the weather in a skirt, which he hoisted up to reveal his pants.

It was a typically cheeky opening followed by a rabble-rousing Let Me Entertain You. But the singer wasn’t at full strength: a bad back meant he had to sit down for a few songs.

The injury didn’t dampen a pyrotechnic-fuelled performance that was both self-confident and a little needy as he admitted to chart setbacks, jokily predicting a career in panto. Last year’s album was his 12th No 1, but lacked hits. Williams narrowly missed the top 20 with Love My Life, which he crooned while nestling on a giant boxing glove above the audience. In contrast to the sugary ballad about parenthood, Motherf***er was a furious celebration of dysfunctional families.

For all Williams’s vaudeville tendencies, such as the daft duet of Somethin’ Stupid with a fan obliged to wear a voice-distorting mask, his set was a jubilant journey through a life in pop.

As he marched along the ego ramp belting out debut single Freedom, Williams displayed the puppyish charm of two decades earlier. Generously, he also revisited both spells in Take That — the boyband denouement of Never Forget and their rousing reunion on The Flood.

The easy listening of Sweet Caroline was in honour of his club singer father, Pete, who sang with him on an incongruous sofa.

For the encore, Williams stopped talking about himself and dedicated his biggest hit to those who “tragically lost their lives in Manchester and London”. Accompanied by 80,000 fans, Angels was the perfect stadium singalong from pop’s ultimate entertainer.