I like physical
comedians, and Tony Hancock wasn’t really in that category, unless one includes
his occasional facial contortions. Hancock’s style of humour was, if anything,
closer to the kitchen sink dramas of the late 1950s, than it was to pantomime. I
include him here, not only because he was a class act in the delivery of lines,
but also because in a book I am currently reading… “The Masters of Sitcom. From
Hancock to Steptoe. Ray Galton and Alan Simpson.’ compiled by Christopher
Stevens*, Ray Galton is quoted as saying, “He (Tony Hancock) was marvellous to
write for because he never tried to insert his own material into the scripts.”
Way-hay!
So, this British
icon, who, in 1961, at the peak of his popularity, was reaching one third of
the population with his television show, trusted his writers, did he? Why then,
do people we have never heard of, or never will hear of, step on stage in an
amateur pantomime and think they can do better than the lad himself? I would be
interested to receive any answers to this conundrum that do not include the
words ‘ego’, and ‘trip’.
The clip is from
the film, ‘The Rebel’, which was released in 1961. It was written by Galton and
Simpson, with contributions from Hancock himself. For me it suffers somewhat from
having to meet the feature-length film running time of 105 minutes. It had to
be ‘opened out’ as it were, and Hancock was at his best in more claustrophobic
settings.
However, this is
one of my favourite comedy bits in any film, and I often quote from it. It’s
almost surreal, and yet it’s also so mundane. The waitress is the delightful
Liz Fraser, and the café owner is Mario Fabrizi, a very reliable member of the regular ensemble who appeared in ‘Hancock’s
Half Hour’. Notice how all three actors play the characters. They don’t force
the comedy. Liz Fraser’s, “No froth!” is brilliant.
I
would love to have written a comedy sketch about froth on coffee… heigh-ho!
* http://christopherstevens.info/
