Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
Cast: Kevin McNally, Kevin Eldon, Simon Greenall, Robin Sebastian, Susy Kane.
As arguably one of the finest British comedies to grace both radio and television celebrates the 60th Anniversary of the first episode, The First Night Party, being aired to the nation; Hancock’s Half Hour has suffered from the short sightedness of the time that many programmes and serials had placed upon them, the constraints of not being recorded and documented for future posterity.
In a time which preserves everything that is recorded, including the most inane and absurd documented films and frivolous mindless captured motions, to have several episodes missing, to have never had them heard by a nation or by the fans since the day they were transmitted beggar’s belief. However with thanks to the chivalrous conduct of the Hancock’s Half Hour writers, Ray Galton and Alan Simpson, producers Ed Morrish and Neil Pearson and a great cast, including the super Kevin McNally and the man who has captured the essence of Kenneth Williams for many years, Robin Sebastian, some of those missing episodes have been rerecorded by the B.B.C. and given the proper showcase for a modern generation who deserves to hear what made their parents and grandparents sit by the radio in their millions.
It was once noted that the pubs used to clear out early at the very height of popularity enjoyed by the comedy, it is hard to believe that would happen in this day and age, that any programme, radio or television could have that effect on the nation’s psyche and funny bone, however between 1954 and 1959, Hancock’s Half Hour was a national treasure, it made a star of Tony Hancock and rightly so.
The first lost classic to be restored to prominence on the radio, the 1955 episode The Matador, sees Hancock fan Kevin McNally take the almost impossible task of portraying the man with the hangdog expression and giving it enough of a fresh outlook to appeal to a new generation, as well as restoring the happy memories of many an older fan.
The Matador could have gone either way, it could have played into the hands of sentimentality and had only the older, original fans caring to listen but such is the power of Ray Galton and Alan Simpson’s writing, that even jokes in which could appear dated, the references to pre-decimalisation currency, the period of dress and use of language such as Kenneth William’s tremendous Edwardian Fred is a testament to just how good that period of time and its output of British comedy was at the forefront of a new media revolution.
The only possible chink in the steely armour of the episode is the very modern thought of what Bull Fighting means to a more switched on society, the jokes, which in themselves are humorous, could be seen at best as a quaint throwback but at worst damaging to the idea of getting such barbaric practices banned.
The Matador though has withstood the ravaging winds of time and in Kevin McNally, the memories of one of Birmingham’s finest sons come flooding back, the misplaced thinking so wonderfully captured, the naivety in dealing with Sid James criminal activities and the touch of time finely woven but free-flowing as would be expected from a great half hour, makes the decision and the faith shown to Neil Pearson in restoring the lost episodes, to be one that should be celebrated.
The return of the lad himself in a different guise might have the purist spitting feathers but some moments in life need to be re-evaluated and enjoyed, no matter how long it has been since it was last heard.
Ian D. Hall