Eric Sykes

Hattie Jacques and Her Heartbreak

Nor long after the end of the war, a young Eric Sykes visited the Players Theatre, a venue under the arches of Charing Cross Station in London that specialised in old-style variety entertainment. The show was nearing its end when the master of ceremonies banged his gavel to introduce a performer who would captivate the budding comedy writer.

There was an old-fashioned whiff about Don't (which in honour of his staunch service I shall rechristen If You Go Down In The Woods Today With Fred) that was positively Bisto. If Will Hay had made it, it might have worked.

I suspect that, here and there, Sykes and Edwards may have added certain impromptu comments to the script. Something about Sykes's irritated "Go oil your bat" and Edwards's comments on a recalcitrant buttonhole, "I thought there was a hole in there. I'll cram it in somewhere," sounded funnier not to say filthier than the original.

The Sykes show had a fine cast, music and production and a quite exceptional script by Sykes himself with a steady, strong note of Lewis Carroll logic about it.

Sykes's script had several jokes which struck me as absolutely original. Which is absolutely extraordinary. I didn't know there were any new jokes. When I tell you that most of the script turned on the record of a dog barking and never once did anyone even look as if they might mention His Masters Voice, you'll see what I mean.

Speight's speciality is creating the ranting monster, writing the overwhelming monologue. Nobody towers in "Curry and Chips," though Eric Sykes stands a head above the rest.

Sykes's new comedy series on BBC is settling down into its comfortable old stride - not exactly a laugh a minute, but consistently entertaining. Last night Eric and his formidable "sister," the formidable but totally charming Hattie Jacques, went camping in the pouring rain. Needless to say everything went wrong.