The Play What I Wrote
Wyndhams Theatre, London

Brooke Neely

I sat down at the West End production of 'The Play What I Wrote,' directed by Kenneth Branagh, with little knowledge of the infamous British comedy duo Eric Morecambe and Ernie Wise. Not my smartest move.

As the play's stars, Sean Foley and Hamish McColl of The Right Size, trotted onstage singing behind a vertical duvet, I knew their physical comedy would keep me entertained. I worried, however, that the allusions and inside jokes, foreign to me but fully understandable to the British television viewers of the 1970s, would prevent me from appreciating this play. After watching the whole production and re-reading the play's glowing reviews, I still do not fully comprehend the comic depth of this work, but I have a greater appreciation for the dynamics of a comedic pair and the shear wonder that was Morecambe and Wise.

Neither a biography of Morecambe and Wise nor an impersonation of the comic duo, this play sets out 'to capture something of the spirit of their work, and throw a little light on to the wonderful machine that created it - the double act'. Similar to the 1970s pair, Foley and McColl, with their sidekick Toby Jones and a surprise celebrity guest, combine outlandish physical comedy with innocent sensitivity, allowing the audience to see the many dimensions of a comedian's life. With Hamish's googly eyes, Sean's intricate yet awkward dance steps and the couples' physical exchanges, this duo uses physicality and movement to play off one another and pay tribute to the art of the double act. Even without any background knowledge, I could laugh at the character interactions and subtle innuendo, which were characteristic of the late Morecambe and Wise' comedic routine.

When their BBC shows aired in the 1960s and 70s, adults and children gathered to watch, each finding humour in these masters of comedy. Throughout The Play What I Wrote, the majority of the audience appeared to connect with the actors and their commentary on the 1970s duo. Morecambe and Wise clearly still have a far-reaching and cross-generational appeal. Because I do not identify with the institution of Morecambe and Wise, I missed key elements of this play and initially categorized it as foolish slapstick with little complexity. After seeing it, though, I was eager to learn more about its origins and the double act that inspired its creators. Morecambe and Wise's mass appeal urges those not familiar with their act to buy the BBC tapes just to see what captured their audience.

However, if the play only succeeds when the viewer is attached to the famous duo, does it lack the ability to reach a more universal audience? Maybe a play doesn't need to be universal in order to succeed. It certainly doesn't need to appeal to me. Its creators set out to produce a play that celebrates the work of two comic icons and gives fans a chance to reconnect to their double act. That I do not know the work being memorialized is essentially insignificant. Considering the overwhelming praise for this production and its consistently packed auditorium, this play achieves its goals. I'm sure Morecambe and Wise would be proud. I'll just have to order one of their BBC Christmas specials.

The Play What I Wrote runs at the Wyndhams Theatre until May 4.