CLASS ACT #12

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/