Episode 2 Morecambe and Wise the Whole Story

Television Centre, 1968.

There's a plan to bring Morecambe and Wise to the BBC.

It's a deal that will fill the studios with laughter

and produce some of the best television comedy that will ever be made.

All men are fools, and what makes them so

is having beauty like what I have got.

LAUGHTER

I'm playing all the right notes,

but not necessarily in the right order.

Now I'd like to introduce you to the greatest star

we've ever had on the show, the one and only Sir Laurence...

He can't come.

Morecambe and Wise had come a long way by the summer of 1968.

Hup!

HE TAPS ON PAPER BAG

After years of struggle through variety theatre and the early days

of television, they had become big stars on ITV.

They were in it for the laughs, but they were still ambitious.

It's a business, we're in it for a reason, we're in it for...

I mean, the days, basically, of glamour have gone,

as far as we're concerned.

They left ATV, as far as I know,

because Lew Grade wouldn't give them two things -

a longer show and more money, but the biggest thing of all,

which was in the background of those two things

and was becoming more and more known by all of us in the public,

was the idea of colour.

Lew Grade, the man who ran ATV, did not want to give them

the colour programmes or the money they were after.

Over at the BBC, the head of variety, Bill Cotton, saw his chance

and signed up Eric and Ernie.

In terms of their own self-esteem,

the return to the BBC must have been absolutely enormous for them.

Eric and Ernie, back in the big time, were on the BBC,

were where it matters.

Morecambe and Wise got the colour programmes they wanted,

shown first on BBC Two and repeated in black and white on BBC One.

ANNOUNCER: And now The Morecambe And Wise Show.

Only short fragments survive from this first series,

but none are in colour.

This clip is from a home recording

and is shown here for the first time since 1968.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the show.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the show.

Friends, Romans and countrymen! Lend me yours.

-Something's happened to mine.

-Wait a minute.

-Eh?

A better quality clip survives from episode two.

HE MIMES TO RECORDED SONG: # Just about the greatest in the trade

# I'm fixing to show you now

# Precisely how...

BANG!

# Jazz music is made... #

MUSIC STOPS

Are you all right? You've gone a funny colour then.

You went a funny colour.

-What happened?

-Ha! Well, I'm the only one that arrived.

I came by tube, you know, tube and yacht. It's difficult.

I'm Bing...

-I'm Bing Crosby.

-Oh, no. Oh, no. I'm sorry.

You see, because with Bing Crosby, you can't see the join.

-With you, now and again, a quick flash...

-Oh, please don't.

Just a quick flash, that's all.

An almost complete episode was recently discovered

as a black and white film print.

Tonight, ladies and gentlemen,

in honour of our special guest and my next-door neighbour

Mr Edmund Hockridge, we're going to present Scenes From The Desert Song.

Only the original audience

would have seen these pictures in colour until now.

Using a process developed by a former BBC engineer,

it is now possible to restore the original colours.

And on BBC Two now, The Morecambe And Wise Show.

Here, for the first time since 1968, is Morecambe and Wise

in colour for their first series at the BBC.

-TV IS ON

-Shut the graphs.

CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYS

TV GOES OFF

-Oh, what's happened to it?

-Has it gone again?!

It's always going, that flaming thing!

When the show was first broadcast,

there were only 100,000 colour TV sets in British homes.

It was one of the first comedy programmes in colour,

but hardly anyone saw it like this.

# And sands kissing a moonlit sky

# The desert breeze whispering a lullaby... #

Get off! Get off!

Apart from the colour,

the first BBC series wasn't that different from the ITV version.

Sid Green and Dick Hills were the writers

and supporting cast on the ATV show for seven years.

There had been tension between them and Eric and Ernie,

but they had a winning formula, so they brought them over to the BBC.

And now to continue with... Just a moment, fellas!

Just a moment! What's going on?

-Why are you going in the tent there with the girl?

-It's in the script.

Exit Sid and Dick with girls into tent.

-Must have been in very small print. I didn't see it.

-Writers' perks.

-We don't get anything else.

-Wait a minute!

By the time Morecambe and Wise went to the BBC, their relationship

with Hills and Green had changed,

so it was much more like equal partners.

Morecambe and Wise had more input into the script,

although it wasn't acknowledged, which continued to niggle them.

But they felt that they were much more of a partnership, and they

were popular, and so it felt like a formula that didn't need changing.

And so they went as a foursome to the BBC.

They would have carried on for years,

but everything changed one winter night in Yorkshire.

Morecambe and Wise had sold out the Batley Variety Club,

one of the biggest cabaret venues in the country.

The shows had gone well, but Eric Morecambe didn't feel right.

They worked the club, and for two days,

Eric kept complaining about this pain in his back,

and he was smoking an awful lot in those days,

and he said to Ernie,

"Would you stop behind and do the autographs,

"because I think I should go home."

I'd gone to bed, and the phone rang, as I was just dropping off to sleep,

and it was someone saying that

would I instantly go up to Leeds Hospital?

Eric Morecambe, at age 42, had suffered a serious heart attack,

and the hospital thought he might not survive another day.

His chances of survival were very, very slight,

and they did tell me that on the phone. His chances were not great.

They said, "If you don't get up here soon,

"I'm afraid you will lose the chance."

Luckily, Eric survived and left hospital soon after.

It had frightened everyone around him.

But the comedian in Eric would turn the heart attack into a chat show anecdote.

I was driving in the car and it was getting worse,

it would have been about 1.30am, and I stopped a fella in Leeds

and I said, "I don't feel very well, do you think you could..."

I had a Jensen in those days, and I said,

"Do you feel you could take me to a hospital? I don't feel very well.

"I'd like to sign myself into a hospital."

And a fella called Walter Butterworth, I'll never forget him,

wasn't his real name, but I'll never forget him,

and he said, "Yes. Oh, aye.

"Hey, you're, er...er... Morton and White!

And I said, "Morecambe and Wise, yes."

So he said, "Well, I've never driven one of these.

"I'm in the Territorials, I've only driven a tank."

This is true, this!

So he gets in there and there's £7,000 quid going....boing!

Up the road. There's me going...oooh!

I got to the stage where I couldn't have cared less.

He takes me to a hospital, and I go in there,

and he's obviously said to the fella behind the counter, he said,

"Eric Morecambe's out there and he's not very well, could I have...?"

And the fellow wouldn't let him have a chair, as far as I can make out.

So I walked in, and the fella looked at me and went, "Oh, yes!"

And he says to all the boils and the cuts and the slashes in the corner there,

in the outpatients, "Eh! 'Tis him!"

This is true.

My real name is Bartholomew, I never tell anybody that,

but my real name is Bartholomew,

so he says, "You don't look too good, son."

I said, "I'd like to sign and put myself into hospital."

He said, "Well, right... Now, then...

"Name?

So I thought, "Well, I won't say Bartholomew," I said, "Morecambe."

"Morecambe. Address?" Which I gave him. "Age?" Which I lied about.

He said, "You don't look too well, you'd better go and lie down."

So I'm lying down on the stretcher there.

And the next thing I know, I'm being injected.

This Walter Butterworth is sat with me, and I said,

"I'd like to say thank you very much for all your help and everything.

He said, "That's all right. It's been a pleasure."

He says, "My mates won't believe this."

He says, and these are the exact words he used, he says,

"Will you do us a favour?"

I said, "What?" He said, "Before you go..."

LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE

It's true, that!

Ernie carried on as best he could as Eric recovered,

but then came the news that

their writers Sid Green and Dick Hills had left the show.

Ernie and his wife Doreen were on a flight to the Caribbean

when they found out about Sid and Dick.

The stewardess came up to us and said, "Have you seen the paper?

"Isn't it a shame about your writers leaving you?"

And so Ernie said, "What do you mean, writers leaving?"

And she said, "Well, it's all in the paper today."

So she gave him the paper.

So when we got off the plane, I think it was in Barbados we were going,

he phoned Billy Marsh and said, "What's happened?"

And he said, "Oh, yes, they don't consider

"that you're going to be around to do any more shows."

They never had a big fall-out, they never had a row,

it just was a general feeling of hurt at the way it was done,

they had assumed that Eric would never work again,

he's had this massive heart attack, and went off

and got other work without just saying what they were doing.

Meanwhile, Eric was making good progress.

The BBC made plans for the next series, and a new writer was found.

Enter Eddie Braben.

Eddie Braben had fallen out with Ken Dodd over money.

He was good and he was available, but was interested?

Apparently not.

I didn't think I'd be able to write for Morecambe and Wise.

They weren't my style. Doddy was my style. You know, ten gags a minute.

Eric and Ern didn't work like that,

and I didn't like the way they worked.

I thought Ernie was too hard, sort of mid-American,

"And then what did you do? And then what happened?"

There was nothing there.

And I thought Eric was rather silly, a bit gormless,

and there was...there was something missing.

Eddie's doubts didn't last long.

He was asked to meet with Eric and Ernie, and they clicked.

We took to each other right way.

I knew there was something there between the three of us.

We all have the same working-class background,

we were all from the North, we all laughed at the same people.

We had a lot going for us, but there was something else,

something intangible going on between the three of us,

sparking between the three of us.

With high hopes and some trepidation,

the new series got under way.

-Right, OK, love.

-TK 43.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,

five, four, three, two, one.

APPLAUSE

Thank you. Lovely. Thank you. Thank you very much. Keep going, you fool.

What?

# Sitting at my piana the udder day...! #

What are you doing with a walnut...? Boing!

Ooh, close!

I'll go and get the tea, Ern. The tea urn! Eh?! Another gem.

Another gem!

Look at that! Look at that! Aah!

Don't keep doing that.

Hoist the mainsail!

-Hoist the main...

-Sail!

Hove to!

-Luton...

-Three!

By 1969, Eric and Ernie were middle-aged comedians

who had seen so many others come and go.

In the ITV years, they had seen the new wave

of university-educated comedians enter the picture.

# That was the week that was It's over, let it go... #

The satire of That Was The Week That Was had made a big impact,

and Eric and Ernie had tried their best to make fun of it.

ERNIE: But what about Harold Wilson and Barbara Castle?

-ERIC:

-I've heard that. I don't think it's true.

It's a rumour! It's a rumour,

I'm sure it is,

spread about by Ted Heath and his band.

-Oh, it's satire!

-Has it come on?

-No, it's satire.

-Well, later, he's coming on later.

I think it's very funny, satire.

The BBC has also found a very different kind

of double act in Peter Cook and Dudley Moore.

I was just about to drop off when suddenly,

tap, tap, tap, at the bloody windowpane.

I looked out, you know who it was?

-Who?

-Bloody Greta Garbo.

The Oxbridge crowd were establishing a whole new tradition of comedy

which reached its peak with the first series of Monty Python

in October 1969, just as Eric was coming back from his heart attack.

Morecambe and Wise looked at this changing world of comedy

and made an inspired decision.

They'd go forward by going backwards.

Back to the music hall, back to variety,

back to the magic of the comedy of their youth.

I think going back was the way forward for Morecambe and Wise.

What they did was they almost

took the mickey out of their own backgrounds

with the curtains on the stage.

You don't need those tabs closing backwards and forwards,

that's a throwback to variety hall, and some of the dance routines

and the gags behind the curtains, throttling himself and all that.

It was a very clever nod to their past.

It wouldn't have worked if they'd tried to up it

and keep up with the new stuff coming through. That wasn't their field.

That would have been disastrous at that.

It's interesting that as they blossomed and matured,

they stopped trying too hard to be television

and reverted to the relaxed atmosphere of the stage,

the curtains and everything.

They went backwards in a very constructive way.

They thought, "This is what we do best, so we must get back to that.

"We've got to find ourselves all over again," and they did.

The big idea was to bring the warmth of the theatre into the cold

technical space of the TV studio.

Instead of working on the hard studio floor,

Eric and Ernie wanted a wooden stage.

Excuse me, just a moment.

I saw that. Just watch it, that's all.

He loved the idea of that, hearing footsteps and things.

It was memories for him, nostalgia. It made him feel relaxed.

"This is a world I know about," on a stage. That's what he enjoyed.

The wooden stage had a comforting sound, and the curtains brought

the feel of variety theatre to the television studio.

But first of all, I would like to amaze you with some sleight of hand.

Good Lord!

Eric and Ernie insisted, well, Eric did, insisted on having

the curtains, the front cloth, and in almost every show that

I remember, they stood in front of it, which is how they started

their early variety careers,

because when you were way down the bill,

they had to change the scenes behind the curtains for the real stars.

So they put fodder out in front in order to pass the time,

so the audience would be kept reasonably amused

before the big act came on.

So that, of course, is very much part of their shows

on television, and of course, part of their lives.

The new theatrical look was complete,

and Eddie Braben's new vision of Morecambe and Wise

stepped onto the stage.

The first change I made, I thought was the obvious one -

obvious to me, anyway - change Ernie. Not Eric, change Ernie.

How could I change Ernie from somebody who stood there saying things like,

"And then what happened? And what did you say? What did he do?"

There was nothing there.

But there was a lot of talent in Ernie, I could see it.

And that was when I decided to make him the egotistical,

pompous author, the playwright.

This is the story of a man.

A man respected by his fellow men and adored by the ladies

for his charm and wit and elegant good looks.

A man of dignity, a man of great education

like what no other men had got.

LAUGHTER

They found a character for Ernie and he became a playwright,

the play what I wrote, so he found this character,

-and it was a character that Eric could bounce off.

-Yeah.

-Right?

When we started, he played the smoothie,

and I could bounce off that, because I'm little.

-I'm right, aren't I?

-Yeah.

-And that's what happened.

-Yeah.

That's what happened with Eric and Ernie.

Ernie, they found a character for him, which was the playwright.

-Do you know what you are to me?

-No.

-You are the Leonardo da Vinci of the felt-tip.

-You think so?

Ordinary folk like myself can only sit and stare in astonishment.

Well, I don't go in for self-analysis,

but I'm just grateful and very humble that I'm a genius.

It's true, Ern, I must admit it.

The Brothers Grimm were good,

but, by golly, Ern, you're grimmer.

Some sketches were now apparently plays written by Ernie Wise.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for...

..the latest play what I have wrote,

entitled The Lives Of A Bengal Lancer. Thank you.

Ernie Wise now stepped up as a vital comedy element in the double act,

and the plays what Ernie wrote saw all kinds of special guests

make fools of themselves.

Peter Cushing set the tone, a serious actor

tricked into appearing in an Ernie Wise play.

-Good evening.

-Is that him? Is that him?

-Yes.

They look different off, don't they? They look different off.

What can I say, Mr Cushing, that an actor of your high standing

should agree to appear on our humble little show?

It's most gracious of you.

Not at all, I've always enjoyed your humble little show.

Behind the scenes, Ernie's contribution was also crucial.

He knew every detail had to be right for the comedy to work.

Eddie, that picture's not decisive enough. It's got to be...

-It's only going halfway.

-Well, I think it's better without that thing there.

-It went all the way to the floor before.

-It's got to go there, otherwise you've lost it.

Yeah, I think so.

They had found a new way to make their television show,

and they had found a brand-new song, Bring Me Sunshine.

# In the world where we live there should be more happiness

# So much joy you can give to each brand-new bright tomorrow

# Make me happy through the years... #

Get off. Stop it!

# Never bring me any tears... #

Sorry about this.

# And your arms be as warm as the... #

I apologise!

# Bring me fun, bring me sunshine Bring me love! #

-You've ruined everything!

-Yes!

We've got no flamin' chance!

APPLAUSE

In 1969, they were only 43 years old,

but Eric and Ernie were already nostalgic about their long career,

stretching from variety to television.

Hey!

HE TAPS PAPER BAG

Haven't done that for years.

# Sitting at my piana...! #

Occupy your mind intelligently.

HORN HONKS

-Look at that. Remember that?

-Do I remember that?!

-We used to use that in the act.

-Of course we did.

-Come on, do the gag.

-What's the difference between...

-HONK

-..and...

-HONK?

-I don't know, what is the difference?

-HONK!

-Remember when we used to do that in variety?

-Yeah!

-Just before we retired.

-Yeah.

They had been on stage since they were children,

and during all the years of pantomimes, summer seasons

and variety theatre, they had seen it all.

The world of entertainment

Morecambe and Wise grew up with

was disappearing fast,

but they weren't going

to let it be forgotten.

-It can't go on, I tell you!

-What can't go on?

This shirt. It's too small! Look at that!

-Remember that!

-I do.

-In pantomime?

Jimmy Clitheroe would like that back, he said.

-Well, send it to him.

-I will.

Lancashire comedian Jimmy Clitheroe was a grown man

who looked like a small boy.

He was one of their favourite characters, and they knew

any mention of him would please the older members of the audience.

Eddie Braben's writings portrayed Eric and Ernie as two good friends

living in their own little world of music hall references.

It was fertile ground for comedy,

which now transferred to the bedroom.

This, er, anybody's place?

-Do you mind if I...?

-No.

-Eric Morecambe.

-Ernie Wise.

-How are you?

-Stop messing about!

-Thanks for inviting me into your bed!

It's been a grand day for it, hasn't it?

Grand day for what?

Well, it all depends what you've been doing.

Do you fancy a rehearsal?

Pardon?

-Do you fancy a rehearsal?

-No, I'm too tired, really.

I wrote this sketch about them being in bed together

and they were horrified, and in my innocence,

I couldn't see anything wrong with it.

Two men in bed together,

and it was the only time I disagreed with them, and I dug my heels in.

I kept on and on about it,

every week I went on about this bed sketch,

so one day we were sitting in the room, it was a break on,

and I said, "So what are we going to do about this bed sketch?"

And they said, "Oh, for God's sake, not that bed sketch. We can't do it!"

I was inspired. I said, "Look, if it's good enough for Laurel and Hardy, it's good enough for you."

And Eric said...

"We'll do it."

EMERGENCY SIREN PASSES

He's not going to sell much ice cream going at that speed, is he?

There was never any hint of anything outrageous there, it was just

accepted that this was the crazy world of Laurel and Hardy,

this was the crazy world of Eric and Ernie,

and this is just what they did.

-Very funny.

-Is it?

The first time they ever did a bed sketch,

they are reading a real script by their new writer Eddie Braben.

The split from their former writers Steve Green and Dick Hill

still hurt Eric, and he even dropped in a barbed comment about them during the sketch.

-Welcome to the show.

-Another gem. Another gem!

Sid and Dick used to write stuff like that, you know.

It was a reference the audience wouldn't really understand,

but Eric was sending a message to Sid Green and Dick Hills.

"You thought we were finished, but look at us now."

Allied Craft award, light entertainment performance, Morecambe and Wise.

The Morecambe And Wise Show started to win all kinds of television industry awards.

All I'd like to say is a lot of teamwork was involved in this.

We'd like to say thank you to the people concerned.

John Ammonds, our producer. Marvellous job.

Also, Eddie Braben, our writer. Thanks, Eddie.

I've heard that in the birthday honours list,

there's a knighthood going for a comedian this year.

They've never had one before. A knighthood...

They did, but it was a long time ago.

The last comedian that got a knighthood

was Sir Lew Grade, wasn't it?

LAUGHTER

-He's not a comedian.

-Well, he makes me laugh, I'll tell you that.

The comments about Lew Grade show Eric hadn't forgotten

the way they were treated at ATV. It became a running joke,

and Eric never missed a chance to make fun of their former boss.

Look at it - dark, dank and dingy,

like a dressing room I once had at ATV.

And Lew was the jailer.

-Mountain god!

-You mean that Lew Grade actually lives up there?

-You'll be telling me you've heard a voice from the other side.

-I have! I have!

It was Lew Grade, but the money was no good.

Into the 1970s, The Morecambe And Wise Show

increasingly looked back to an earlier age.

Cheerio.

The influence of comedian Billy Bennett

was acknowledged and celebrated.

Billy Bennett was a music hall entertainer,

quite an imposing figure,

with a walrus moustache and ill-fitting evening suits

and big boots, whose stage matter on his billing was,

"Almost a gentleman."

Eric's favourite costume,

top hat and tails, was a straight lift from Billy Bennett.

Billy also had a way with one-liners

and a striding walk which Eric liked to imitate.

What, more of 'em?

I've just had a tussle with some Redskins, opening a tin of tomatoes.

-Auf wiedersehen.

-Shalom aleikhem.

-And who are you?

-I'm Big Chief Maxi Bacon.

I know your brother, Streaky Bacon.

Eric had learned from Billy Bennett how to make an entrance in a funny costume

and deliver a stream of corny gags.

APPLAUSE

I'm sorry I'm late, but I've been irrigating the desert.

And it's very difficult on your own.

-Is Julius Caesar with you?

-Couldn't come, love. Couldn't come.

Got the hieroglyphics. But he does send his love.

Billy Bennett was also the king of rambling comedy verse,

another skill Eric admired.

Now, Dan was a gink That would mop any drink

From laudanum to unsweetened gin

You can tell he was tough He'd eat salmon and stuff

Without evening open the tin

Picture a real tough son of a gun

A man that could fight any two

With hair on his chest Where the birds used to nest

And that's dangerous Dan McGrew.

Eric would often launch into comic poems,

even quoting Billy Bennett directly.

A comic, many years ago, a fella called Tony Bennett...

Billy Bennett!

-They both make me laugh.

-Billy Bennett.

-Got a moustache. "Almost A Gentleman."

-That was him.

-He was a great poet.

-Oh, he was good.

He did some fantastic poetry. You listen to this for scan and beauty.

By the light of a 1,000 lanterns In the quarters of Limehouse Reach

Lived a blind chinee

Who loved the sea

Cos he was a son of the beach.

-That's poetry?

-I'm glad you like it.

Another obscure variety reference involved Janet Webb

as the mystery woman taking the bow at the end of each episode.

Janet Webb, who used to appear at the end

of The Morecambe And Wise Shows,

the big woman at the back of the stage trying to take

the tremendous applause of the crowd.

Not a lot of people might have known that it was a satire

on George Formby's wife, Beryl,

who, wherever George played,

at the end of the show she would come on, link arms with him

and take all the bows.

Eventually, people, as the years went by, went, "Who is this?

"Who's this woman? What's going on here?"

I'd like to thank all of you for watching me and my little show here tonight.

If you've enjoyed it, then it's all been worthwhile.

So until we meet again, good night and I love you all. Yes!

With every show, the new ideas were refined and developed

until one sketch came along which had it all.

The Antony and Cleopatra sketch was another Ernie Wise play,

and in the flat which Eric and Ernie now shared,

they tricked another serious actor into taking part,

this time the Oscar-winning Glenda Jackson.

I feel sure, Glenda, that when you read my play you will feel

it is absolutely brilliant

and a masterpiece of the highest order possible.

Oh, I'm sure I will, Ernie.

I've heard it said many times that yours is one of the greatest

talents in the British theatre, both as author and actor.

I've heard it said many times.

-By whom?

-You.

Glenda was perfectly willing to have the mickey taken out of her

and be made a fool of, because it was always meant in such a kind way -

nobody lost face with Eric and Ernie.

They actually felt privileged that these people were on their show,

and they weren't going to do anything to offend them.

Those are the stage directions. You know about stage directions?

That's when you move about.

-People nod and say, "That way," and walk about like that.

-Oh, I see.

Cleopatra smiles a self-assured smile and says...

Could we have the self-assured smile? If you don't mind.

Right, self-assured smile.

-Are you doing it?

-Yes.

-You're going to have trouble here.

-Yeah, I think so.

All men are fools, and what makes them so

is having beauty like what I have got.

-Beautiful, quite well read, that.

-Yes, beautiful.

Is the rest of the play like this?

Well, to be honest, some of it's not quite as good.

There was Glenda, who was the top of her profession, I suppose, then,

but renowned for fairly serious stuff.

And there she is suddenly giggling around with Eric and Ernie.

Don't let him frighten you.

Yes, but if he tells Julius Caesar about you and I, you know,

with the yellow folks, and what about the workers,

I'll lose me pension and me gold watch.

All men are fools, and what makes them so

is having beauty like what I have got.

-You have a plan?

-Leave me alone.

Leave me alone with him for five minutes.

-Five minutes?

-Five minutes.

I will incriminate him, and then we need fear nothing he may do.

Please!

He's a soldier of Rome. It is impossible to incriminate him.

-Leave me alone with him.

-Just as you say, Cleo.

What do you think of it so far? Rubbish!

The inspiration for the sketch was the Elizabeth Taylor film,

Cleopatra.

But it also owed a lot to the great music hall act,

Wilson, Keppel and Betty.

From the 1930s to the '50s,

they performed Egyptian-themed dance routines like this one,

Cleopatra's Nightmare.

Morecambe and Wise borrowed a few ideas from Wilson, Keppel and Betty.

The sand dance was their famous routine,

a bit of business Eric and Ernie couldn't resist.

-You must be hungry for something.

-That's true.

EGYPTIAN-THEMED MUSIC

Be honest, come on.

I think most comedians are influenced by what's gone before.

You have to be.

With Eric and Ernie, that's most clearly shown

in the love of variety,

in the entertainment that they grew up with as kids.

"What do you think of it so far? Rubbish." All that stuff.

And just that. "What do you think of it so far?"

is a real hark back to music hall days.

It's reaching out to the audience.

It's bringing the audience in, asking them questions.

Can you see the join? That sort of thing.

It's there, in every aspect of Morecambe and Wise's 1970s show.

You can see exactly where they'd come from.

It was light entertainment, but there were some who took

seriously the question, "What do you think of it so far?"

The dynamic which fuelled the comedy

now attracted serious critical analysis.

Kenneth Tynan wrote in the Observer,

"Ernie today is the comic who is not funny

"and Eric is the straight man who is funny,"

a thought picked up by other journalists,

including political commentator Robin Day.

I'm not really one for these occasions.

I'm a very serious person.

Of course, I don't truly understand Morecambe and Wise.

I read an article by Kenneth Tynan the other day,

who explained that now they've all changed

and that Ernie is the comic who is not funny

and Eric is the straight man who is funny.

The fact is, ladies and gentlemen,

that Morecambe and Wise are not quite as simple as they look.

Do not be deceived by their happy and contented faces,

because, and I hate to say this,

they are bitter and frustrated men

whose supreme ambition has hitherto eluded them.

Now, you may say, how can that possibly be?

Have they not done extremely well, considering?

Have they not won nearly as many awards as Glenda Jackson?

Oh, yes.

They have indeed gone a long way since that historic night

35 years ago, when together they shook the Empire to its foundations.

No, ma'am, I'm talking about the Liverpool Empire.

Their comic genius has even been psychoanalysed

and interpreted for us by Mr Kenneth Tynan in the Observer.

And they are still popular.

Much of the success of the show

was down to the man behind the scenes,

producer John Ammonds.

I worked with Eric and Ernie

when I was a sound producer in Manchester with the BBC

in about 1956, when we were sort of pioneering,

when very few people south of Macclesfield

knew what they were all about.

Eric Morecambe had always performed just for the live audience,

but John Ammonds showed him how to use the television camera.

-I give you my word as a gentleman.

-That's good enough me.

-This boy is a fool.

-What did you say then?

-Not a lot.

The whole business which he originally

lifted off Oliver Hardy of looking into the camera,

and which Miranda Hart has emulated off Eric so brilliantly,

brings him into the home, so Eric did become the favourite uncle.

Through that, by just being into your home,

into your living room, I think that was definitely created

through that device,

and which was a working device but absolutely great.

-Is that my family tree?

-£10.

-Is it genuine?

-You have my word as gentleman.

-That's good enough for me.

This boy is a fool.

-Who are you talking to?

-Nobody.

-Here's the £10.

It was a look to the audience at home which in time

would include his own family and himself.

We were never forced to watch the programme,

The Morecambe And Wise Show.

However, I'm not sure he would've spoken to me

if I'd said, "I'm going out tonight, I'm not watching the show."

And we did all watch them together.

He enjoyed watching the shows.

He would laugh the same as we would laugh.

There was an air of excitement about, "Oh, Dad's about to be on."

BOMBASTIC MUSIC PLAYS

The on-screen Eric was a comedy character,

a performance which Eric would also appreciate.

Ann Hamilton, the ever-present cast member, saw this for herself.

-What's your name?

-Hamilton.

Academicals?

Eric was watching the playback on a monitor, as was I.

I was standing here watching it and he came up behind me.

It was of himself, I think, probably...

I don't know who he was with,

but Eric was featured heavily in what we were watching.

When it finished, he didn't say this to me, he didn't say it to anybody.

He just said,

"That is a very funny man,"

looking at himself on screen.

But yet he wasn't talking about himself.

He was being totally objective.

That person on that screen at this moment is a very funny man.

The team of producer John Ammonds, writer Eddie Braben

and Morecambe and Wise had got everything right,

and with this smooth running machine

they made the Christmas show of 1971.

Like the entire nation, for me, the Christmas show

for Morecambe and Wise was the must-watch programme of the holiday.

An early highlight was the appearance of singer Shirley Bassey,

a sketch which featured the choreography of Ernest Maxin.

# They asked me how I knew

# My true love was true

# I, of course, replied

# Something deep inside cannot be denied... #

What I thought, as far as Shirley Bassey is concerned,

people look upon her, they love her voice,

a great star and very serious.

And I thought, if I can go the other way

and make something happen

around her that she would feel is destroying her

and she doesn't know to get out of trouble,

so I thought of the shoe routine.

# So I charmed them

# And I gaily laugh to think they could doubt... #

And John said to me,

"Great, will you choreograph it?" And I said yeah.

LAUGHTER DROWNS SINGING

The show so far was very good,

but the best was yet to come.

Let's give a warm welcome to the principal conductor

from the London Symphony Orchestra, Mr Andre Previn.

Halfway through, Ernie introduced another special guest,

the conductor Andre Previn.

We didn't think a musician would be able to carry a comedy act.

We were all concerned about that.

Knowing Eric, I can see in his eyes he's a bit nervous.

They don't know how this guy's going to perform in front of an audience.

So much hangs on his performance,

and there's a moment where Andre goes, "All right, I'll do it,"

he says, "I'll just go and get my baton."

Ernie says, "Where is it?"

And he says, "It's in Chicago,"

which gets a huge laugh

and you can see Eric's face, because he's timed it to perfection,

Previn, absolute perfection.

He's got a huge laugh that Eric is like, "Oh, this is going to be good."

You can see it in his face.

-Good night.

-Don't go, Mr Preview...

-Privet!

-I can assure you that Eric is more than capable.

-Well...

All right, I'll go get my baton.

-Please, do that.

-It's in Chicago.

Pow! I like him.

Having the surprise package that Previn knew what he was doing

and was brilliant, and a very natural comedian, in fact,

and got it just right, because he played it for real.

Eric had told him beforehand, he said, "If there's any

"nudges and winks in this, it fails.

"We've got to believe this is really happening."

Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, Grieg's Piano Concerto

by Grieg...

soloist Mr Eric Morecambe,

conducted by Mr Andre Previn.

Thank you.

What's the matter?

-Sorry about that.

-What happened?

-The introduction.

-The introduction is wrong?

-It's too short.

-It's too short?

-Oh, you noticed.

-Yes.

By how much is it too short?

-I went down here like that, came back.

-You wasted some time there.

I wasted time there, yes. Came over here, you see.

It's about, I would say, by about that much.

-A yard?

-It's about a yard.

If you could lengthen it by about a yard, we'll be in.

-What do you think we can do about that?

-Well...

Well, that's nothing to do with me.

Our musical manager, he does all this.

-Could we get in touch with Grieg?

-That's a good idea.

-Call him on the phone?

-Why not?

I didn't bring his phone number.

Well, it's Norway, something or other, isn't it?

What's the code?

Fingal's Cave or something.

Mind you, you might not get him. He could be out skiing.

It was a brilliant idea -

the accomplished musician versus the clueless Eric and Ernie.

A very different version of the sketch had first been

performed in 1963, when they were at ATV.

As written by Sid Green and Dick Hills,

there is no guest conductor

and Eric and Ernie fight with each other.

Ah, now, if you can stand there, yes.

You're playing all the wrong notes.

No, I'm playing all the right notes.

They're not necessarily in the right order...

When Eddie Braben comes to rewrite that

you see a whole extra dimension coming into it.

Again, it's the friendship at the heart of it.

When Andre Previn looks over as if Eric Morecambe is an idiot,

Ernie Wise is already in there to try to defend him.

If they want an extra yard of music so Eric can get to the piano,

Ernie is always suggesting it,

or looking up Fingal's Cave in the telephone directory

to contact Grieg. Always those things.

The two of them are in it together.

Grieg by...with him and him.

Great!

HE PLAYS A JAUNTY TUNE

Something wrong with the violins?

-No, there's nothing wrong with the violins.

-That's only your opinion.

What were you playing just then?

The Grieg piano concerto.

HE PLAYS JAUNTILY

You're playing all the wrong notes.

I'm playing all the right notes...

but not necessarily in the right order.

I'll give you that. I'll give you that, sunshine.

That sounded quite reasonable to me.

-Are you satisfied, Mr Preview?

-No!

No?

What do you mean, no?

-I'm not satisfied.

-Why not?

-Look here.

With all due... Would you mind?

For another £4, we could've got Edward Heath.

APPLAUSE

Rubbish.

That's it!

At the end, they all knew it was something special.

Morecambe and Wise had completed the television journey

from despair to triumph.

In 1954, after the failure of their first TV series, Running Wild,

the critic had described television

as the box they buried Morecambe and Wise in.

But by 1971, television was the box

which had made Morecambe and Wise immortal.

Next day at lunch, my father said to me,

"It won't ever get better than that.

"We might equal it but that will be the ceiling for the rest

"of our careers, that routine with Previn."

Having seen it at home on Christmas night, sat back just as a viewer

and watched it, he said,

"You'll never get better than that."

He was absolutely right.

Morecambe and Wise had made 32 television shows

in just under three years.

It'd been an amazingly productive period,

but also an exhausting one.

And for the writer, Eddie Braben,

the strain was too much.

I was sitting in there typing,

not realising how much I was doing

and what I was putting myself through.

I actually happened to look down on the corner of the room

and I saw this hairy thing going across the floor.

I actually saw it.

I could have knelt down and touched it, it was so real.

And I realised then that all wasn't as it should be.

That was about the last recollection I have before I was in bed

and the doctor telling me not to do anything for another three months.

A whole year went by with no Morecambe and Wise shows,

as Eddie recovered and other writers were brought in.

The comeback show was on Christmas Day, 1972,

and Eric and his son Gary went out to publicise it.

-Can I introduce you to my son? This is my son.

-Gary!

Having been off the TV screens for a year,

Eric Morecambe was worried they'd been forgotten.

You want to just mention your show this evening?

Oh, yes, fine. We'll just mention our show this evening.

We're going to mention it this evening, our show.

The highlight of the BBC Christmas schedule

really didn't need any extra publicity,

but Eric was taking no chances.

How bizarre,

Eric plugging his own show on Christmas Day on another show.

There are a lot of things about him that I found unusual, unexpected -

doing things like that,

where it's not necessary to plug a Morecambe and Wise show,

I always found those slightly difficult thoughts

to get my mind around.

The Christmas show of 1972 kicked off their seventh series at the BBC.

-And what do you think you're doing?

-Not a lot.

Haven't they done well?

Mush, mush! Go on.

Their new series looked bigger and better than the ones

which had gone before, and money had been spent on lavish sets.

The dance routines were standing out more and more,

and this was down to the choreography of Ernest Maxin.

Ernest is very much Hollywood, that was the image they wanted.

They wanted all of the glamour shots done with the guest stars

and the great productions.

That was really what Ernest was able to help them with.

Everybody loved Ernest Maxin's musical routines,

and the first episode of the next series had one of his best.

# Hey there, mister

# You'd better watch your sister

# Cos the fleet's in, the fleet's in... #

I used to get the idea first and try and think of what music

I wanted to put that idea.

I thought, "I'd love to do something with sailors."

Ernest Maxin was fantastic. He certainly had this look.

When we saw it back on the screen, you had a look.

I know it was comedy and it was outrageously funny

and in some cases kind of stupid, dancing with mops and things,

but it really had a fantastic look about it.

# She may be dark or fair

# For sailors don't care

# As long as she's wearing a gown... #

They took two weeks to film the show,

and, of course, that's another reason why probably

actors and actresses, and certainly me, we wanted to be on that show,

because we knew we were going to get lots of time to rehearse.

That bucket thing looks very easy,

but it was really quite difficult

to do that in time, banging those huge, heavy buckets on the floor.

Again, I felt all right with that,

because I felt that they were like me.

Just listening to Ernest and saying, "Oh, let's try that,

"we'll do that. We'll do this, we'll do that,"

and as we did it and it was obviously working,

we could feel that it was working -

the three of us were one,

I felt more and more comfortable.

# The fleet's in town! #

Another dance routine would have a more lasting impact.

In January, 1973,

Britain first saw the moves that will be associated with them forever.

How did the dance at the end originate, then?

-Groucho Marx.

-Yes.

-Really?

We saw it in a film with Groucho Marx, and Johnny Ammonds,

our producer at the time, came into the studio and did it.

We fell about laughing because he couldn't do it properly,

so we copied him, not Groucho Marx, but we copied Johnny Ammonds,

-and we've done it ever since.

-Now we know.

Eric's home life took an interesting turn in 1973,

with the adoption of a four-year-old boy, Steven.

There's this big gap between Steven and the others.

That, actually, was the hardest thing I've ever done,

and suddenly you're back into the business of schooling

with someone that needs a lot of help.

It did mean that whereas we were just getting our freedom

to do what wanted and fit in with Eric's work and that was it,

suddenly we weren't just fitting in with Eric's work,

we were fitting in with Steven for school and all the rest of it,

so it was hard, yeah.

At this time, Eric and Ernie embarked on a series of live shows

they called "the bank raids",

which were a lucrative break from the pressure of television.

-Have we got time for any more?

-I think so.

-Oh, lovely.

He called them bank raids

because he said it was embarrassingly easy money.

He had a chauffeur pick him up, meet Ernie there,

no rehearsals needed, go and do an hour and a half, two hours,

stay at the hotel overnight, back home next day.

If it was near enough, back home the same night.

Going back to do the stage shows was absolutely the be-all and end-all

as far as they were concerned, and a lot easier, really,

than doing TV shows.

Announce me, I'm going to sing.

WOMAN LAUGHS

You were in first house, were you?

-Going to sing.

-You're not going to sing.

-Why not?

-We're doing so well.

Thank God their agent, Billy Marsh,

made, 1973 I think it was,

Fairfield Halls, a film of their live show.

It was absolutely brilliant.

Dated, maybe, but again they use it ironically.

It's very funny.

You're making this look like a cheap music hall act.

We are a cheap music hall act.

-They don't know.

-I'm sure they do.

But even that became tiring later on in the '70s

because he felt the material was tired.

He felt it was getting embarrassing doing the same old gags

that were related, a lot of it was related to the 1950s,

early '60s stuff, and the era and the people of that time.

He suddenly became very material-conscious.

"We can't keep doing this.

"What we need to do is sit down with writers

"and develop a whole new live show."

Then he said, "Which I'm not going to do because I don't need it."

So they stopped in about circa '75, '76.

We're going on. Anita next.

Meanwhile, back at the BBC, things were changing

and their producer, John Ammonds, wanted to leave the show.

Ernest Maxin, the man who choreographed their most memorable dance routines,

was asked to take his place.

I was thrilled to take it over, but I said to John,

"Do you know what you're doing?"

He said, "Yes, I feel I want a change,

"I want to produce a Mike Yarwood show."

Eric and Ernie wanted to follow a more musical direction,

and Ernest Maxin was already choreographing

for John Ammonds their shows.

So it was a natural development that John moved on to do other shows,

which he did very successfully,

and Ernest got promoted on the back of it

and brought Hollywood into it.

That's when you've got Singin' In The Rain

and the dancing newsreaders and everything.

When they knew they were going to go into a musical number,

before I'd even given them the first step,

they shed the tension of,

"Will the script get laughs?"

It's very hard, and it's something where they're not relying

just on laughs but of their talent as well.

We used to love that.

I used to love giving it to them

because the first thing they said on Monday morning of rehearsals,

"How are you, all right? Yes, fine, you? OK.

"Now, what's the music we're doing?"

When you watch Morecambe and Wise doing a musical number,

you can see it's not work to them.

They're loving it.

The first show Maxin produced would be the Christmas show of 1975.

LAUGHTER

Star names queued up to be insulted.

The 1975 show was almost totally given over

to ridiculing their close friend, singer and comedian Des O'Connor.

That is the best record Des has ever made.

You mean there's nothing on it at all?

LAUGHTER

Did you hear that?! Where did you get it from?

-Boots!

-Boots?

-Boots!

Did you need a prescription?

-I got it at the poison counter!

-At the poison counter! At the poi...

How do you do? At the poi...

Have you seen that nose there?

Looks like Concorde coming out the hangar for the first time.

And those teeth! Like a set of white bollards

at the end of a long, dark tunnel, you know?

It's ridiculous. I feel ill every time...

-What's the matter?

-I like him.

LAUGHTER

On screen, Eric Morecambe joked around like a schoolboy.

But beneath the surface

was a man who was very serious about making comedy.

But, with every success, the pressure increased.

The Morecambe and Wise Christmas shows really became

a victim of their own success, because they became so popular

and so widely watched and so critically admired,

that you could almost see the pressure build like putting

another layer of bricks on the shoulders of the writer and producer

and performers, as each one goes by.

But it started as such a fun enterprise,

and it got to the point when they were planning the next one,

really towards the end of January, the next year,

that it was a year-long burden in which there were worries

about things getting leaked to the press,

there were all kinds of security issues,

there were more and more pressurised big routines

to try to better what they'd done the previous year.

Could they get bigger names? Could they pull off bigger surprises?

And the fun went out of it.

Ladies and gentlemen, the British Broadcasting Corporation

proudly presents the Morecambe and Wise Christmas show.

Their wonderful Christmas shows and everything,

the strain began to tell on Eric, I think.

That you've got to follow that, you got to follow your own success.

You've made a stumbling block for yourself.

"How are we going to follow that one?"

-Tell them all about the show.

-Have we got a show for you tonight, folks?

Have we got a show for you tonight. HE LAUGHS

-Hey?

-What?

-Have we got a show for them tonight?

-Of course we have!

Eric's reaction to any recording was terrified.

Terrified that the audience wouldn't like it

when it was put on television.

His first reaction was, "What did you think of it?"

To me, to Gail, to Gary, to Joan, whoever was in the car.

He wanted to know what we felt about it,

and he was absolutely petrified that the show, when it came out,

people wouldn't like it, or something was wrong with it.

Because as soon as you finished the last one,

they almost would forget that one entirely.

From that following day, you're absolutely into that next show,

and I never saw Eric have a holiday without he wasn't reading up

or working out ideas and always, it was always with him all the time.

I found, particularly on holidays abroad,

that he didn't like being away from it for long.

I mean, the Tom Jones routine and the Shirley Bassey routine,

they were worked on holidays in Portugal, sitting on the terrace.

And he used to sit there at a little old-fashioned typewriter,

just tapping out, and then he would come back to the villa,

and he'd say, "I got an idea with Tom Jones, we're backing vocals,"

"What do you think?" And we'd go, "Oh, great, Dad, yeah. Fine.

"What do we know?" You know.

And it's only when these things happen,

they become big bits of entertainment history,

and you look back and think, "Hang on, that was on holiday.

"Why wasn't he switched off?

"Why wasn't he having a complete and utter rest?"

And I did ask him once.

I said, "Why don't you just, you know, switch off?"

And he said, "The only trouble I have is if I switch off completely,

"it's the fear I'll never be able to switch on again or even want to."

And I thought that was very telling.

I think it was a stress, the idea that it could end at any time,

and it certainly meant that they found it hard

to turn anything down, and they did work extremely hard.

Into 1976, Eric Morecambe, Ernie Wise

and the rest of the production team

were too full of ideas to want to stop or slow down.

MUSIC: "The Stripper" by David Rose And His Orchestra

I'd had it all set up in my mind that I was going to use that music,

and it all came to me like that.

You know, chopping the grapefruits,

and the flutes would go "ding-ling-ling"

as they squeeze the grapefruits.

But it's fantastic, really, when you come to realise that

a thing like that actually takes six hours to do.

With all the stops and starts and the relighting and everything.

To get the timings on the things,

except the toaster, which was first time.

-He did it on a one-off, which was great.

-Once.

We thought there would be trouble. The catching to the actual music.

APPLAUSE

The hits kept coming, and an imaginative choice of guest star

lit up the 1976 Christmas show.

I just got a phone call from Ernest Maxin,

who said, "The boys would like you to be in their Christmas show."

Angela Rippon was not the usual actor playing it for laughs.

She was much more serious than that.

She was an award-winning journalist, the voice of BBC News.

Well, I was at a luncheon, a charity luncheon, and she was sat next to me.

And I ask if she did anything else besides reading the news.

And she said...

And eat lunches.

And she said she was a classical dancer.

A report on the economy has just come through from Number 11,

Downing Street. The Chancellor's statement reads as follows...

"There may be trouble ahead,

-"but while there's moonlight...

-MUSIC STARTS

"..and music and love and romance..."

BOTH: # Let's face the music and dance!

The whole country was gobsmacked by that,

because nothing like that had ever happened before.

We knew perfectly well that newsreaders

only existed from the head to the waist,

and there was nothing beneath that except a desk.

BOTH: # You were meant for me...

I think the genius of Eric's comedy is that he always looks

as if he's improvising. It is very carefully rehearsed.

The "A, you're adorable" bit where he keeps breaking in,

we rehearsed that over and over and over again

until it was absolutely slick,

because that was what they wanted to do, where he keeps going, "A!"

BOTH: # Just for...

-# A!

-You're adorable

-# B!

-But you're beautiful

-# C!

-You're a cutie full of charms...

-# A!

-You're adorable

-# B!

-But you're beautiful

-# F!

-You're a feather in my arms

# G! You look good to me!

-# A!

-You're adorable

-# B!

-But you're beautiful

-C!

-You're a cutie full of charms

# ALL: It's fun to wander through

# The alphabet with you

# But what are we going to do about him? #

Who, me?

When we were actually recording my piece, there was a moment

where we were doing the bit at the end with the bartender.

P-ina-a-a!

We did it in one take,

and Ernie Maxin came down and said,

"Sorry, guys, we're going to have to do that again,

"because I could just see a boom, a microphone,

"a boom crept into the top," and Eric Morecambe,

the only time I ever saw him get cross, he said,

"What are you talking about?" he said.

"They're going to be watching us, "they're not going to be looking for a flipping boom."

And he was right. He was saying,

"You know, if we're doing what we're doing properly,

"people are concentrating on us.

"They're not going to be looking to see an extraneous boom."

But Ernest Maxin, of course, professional producer,

did not want that in the shot, so we had to do it again.

# It's fun to wander through

# The alphabet with you

# But what are we going to do about him?

# 2, 3, 4

-# A!

-You're adorable... #

And it was the only time I ever saw Eric just sort of,

I think the strain and the responsibility

just went over the top.

The '76 Christmas show also featured

the classic parody of Singing In The Rain.

# I'm...

# Singing in the rain

# Just singing in the rain... #

The Singing In The Rain to me is a classic,

because how wonderful a concept is it to have this set

that's as good as the one Gene Kelly had, but then it doesn't rain.

I think that's just...

You know, Singing In The Rain, but there's no rain.

To me, that's just genius. Absolute genius.

That's when it works, and that's what Eric and Ernie were all about -

taking these things, these big ideas,

and then making them very, very silly.

# Just singing and dancing in the rain. #

I'm wet through. Have you seen what you've done for me?

-I'm wet through!

-# I'm singing...

You! I'm wet through, I am. That's not nice.

I'm wet through, folks.

# Just singing and dancing in the rain. #

APPLAUSE

The Morecambe and Wise Christmas shows had become so important

that the only programme they made in 1977 was the Christmas one.

Special guest, Penelope Keith.

When I was phoned up by my agent

to ask if I would like to be on

the Morecambe and Wise show, I thought, "This is it. I can die now.

"I've arrived. This is the zenith of my career."

It wasn't till I got into the studio that I realised

the last two steps were six-foot high.

They didn't let me know that until I got into the studio,

and saw how far I was going to have to climb down.

-Sorry about this.

-I cannot climb down there in this dress.

-My hand.

-Where is it?

-It's where it shouldn't be!

I can't get down there in this dress.

Well, do something with the dress, love. You know.

-It's been specially made.

-Yes, I realise.

If you just climb down here...

-I really don't like heights at all.

-No, no.

None of that getting down was rehearsed at all, no, no, no.

That was just doing it.

I was laughing my socks off the entire time.

-Lovely.

-Oh!

Yes. Fine. How are we doing now? Lovely. That's it.

-Aargh!

-Don't worry.

Now, let's go forward...

LAUGHTER

-I've had enough of this.

-Had enough?

Yes, I have. I'm going home. Thank you very much.

The big dance number would be a spectacular version

of Nothing Like A Dame from the musical South Pacific.

# We got sunlight on the sand

# We got moonlight on the sea

# We got mangoes and bananas you can pick right off a tree

# We got volleyball and ping-pong

# And a lot of dandy games

# What ain't we got?

# We ain't got dames... #

This time, they went for a whole team of BBC presenters,

including Michael Aspel and Barry Norman.

I was at home one day when Ernest Maxin phoned me up,

and I knew Ernest slightly

because we bumped into each other in Television Centre quite often,

and you know, I was surprised to hear from him, and I said,

"What's up?" And he said, "Well, the boys" -

because Eric and Ernie were always known as the boys -

"The boys would like you to appear on their Christmas show."

I said, "You're kidding." He said, "No, I'm serious."

I said, "What am I supposed to do?" He says, "Sing and dance."

I said, "Ernest, I can't do either of those things."

# There are no books like a dame

# Ahhh-ahhh

# And nothing looks like a dame

# Ahhh-ahhh

# There are no drinks like a dame

# Ahhh-ahhh