What do you think?
Rate this book


Paperback
First published September 1, 2011
In Hancock’s Half Hour, though, there would be no joke-telling, punchlines or music-hall patter. The writers were intent on getting rid of catchphrases, songs, running gags, musical interludes and sketches. This was a type of comedy as radical as the realist theatre that would sweep the English stage in the late fifties: natural, honest and unflinching.
“A pint... that’s very nearly an armful!” It started off as, “A pint... that’s an armful!” and then one of us said, “Nearly an armful,” and the other one said, “Very nearly an armful.” It’s funnier, because it’s more precise.
HANCOCK: I’ve been living a lie. (Dramatic) Geraldine, I have never said a funny thing in my life.
GERALDINE: When do we get to the lie?
TONY: All those funny things you hear me say aren’t me at all. I employ a ventriloquist. He stands off stage thinking up funny jokes while I stand here opening me mouth. (Emotional) Yes, Hancock the funny man is nothing but a great big dummy.
GERALDINE: When do we get to the lie?