If you read one of their scripts never having seen Morecambe & Wise, it might well strike you as not being particularly funny. It’s the bits that aren’t said that make it – Eric’s (apparent) deviation from script and his priceless reactions, body language, double-takes and pauses. His face seems to paint a vivid picture of his thought processes as they happen and builds huge anticipation for the next line; it’s like the whirring of cogs before the clock chimes or an anticipatory drum roll before the cymbal crash – and you know it’s going to be a big one by the expression of serene, amused confidence on Ernie’s face that could only come from decades treading the boards in tandem.
Much comedy these days has a fairly narrow demographic; different niches for different social groups. For younger people it tends to be intellectually clever; politically or socially astute, or generally confrontational or cruel in some way – there’s usually a target. It’s difficult to imagine a group of teenagers or younger kids these days being held spellbound as we were by a couple of middle-aged blokes just being plain daft; they had no agenda other than laughter. What Eric and Ernie did have above all else was warmth: behind Eric’s bluster and mischief and Ernie’s pomposity and pretension, there was never a hint of real animosity towards anyone – not even Des O’Connor!