The Play What I Wrote

It’s been more than 80 years since Morecambe and Wise first performed together, but their legendary double act remains enduringly iconic. Riding a wave of pure nostalgia, The Play What I Wrote takes the duo’s most recognisable routines as a starting point, reworking and reinventing the material within a loose plot about a completely different pair of light entertainers.

We’re introduced to former comedian Thom, longing to be taken seriously as a playwright, preparing to premiere his new historical drama – horribly written, mercifully only two paragraphs long. Meanwhile, his co-star Dennis will stop at nothing to get the duo back together.

Written by Hamish McColl, Sean Foley and Morecambe and Wise’s late scriptwriter Eddie Braben, the script is witty and self-referential, subverting the expectations of a tribute act by explicitly avoiding impersonation. Though the set pieces feel unavoidably familiar, there’s a fresh, anarchic edge to this onslaught of song-and-dance, clowning, and extraordinarily silly sight gags.

Foley – finally getting the opportunity to helm a show after two years as artistic director at Birmingham Repertory Theatre – directs with verve and an obvious passion for the material. The pace he sets is relentless but never rushed.

As one half of the chaotic duo, Dennis Herdman is an arrestingly physical presence, kicking up his heels as he gambols about the stage one moment, shaking his fellow performers by the lapels the next. Beside him, Thom Tuck works hard to sell his role as a frustrated poseur secretly jealous that his co-star gets all the laughs.

They do an impressive job of capturing Eric and Ernie’s precise comic synchronicity, but other notable comedians feel present in their performance too. There are distinct shades of Ronnie Corbett in Tuck’s affected, fussy drawl, and large helpings of John Cleese and Vic Reeves in Herdman’s febrile, surreal unpredictability.

Mitesh Soni, meanwhile, throws himself into multiple thoroughly daft parts, many of which are ultimately revealed as disguises worn by a hapless electrician roped in as part of Dennis’ scheme, determined to fulfil his dream of playing a harmonica solo, just once.

In true Morecambe and Wise style, the show’s second half revolves around the appearance – and mistreatment – of a surprise celebrity guest. On press night, Tom Hiddleston strolled on in a kingfisher-blue silk dressing gown, providing a great foil to Herdman and Tuck’s fizzy, excitable energy. Hiddleston’s performance was perfectly pitched between gentle self-deprecation and measured, commanding charm.

Sets by Alice Power feature grand, painted backdrops and solid-seeming structures full of hidden, moving parts. Bricks are pulled from walls, topiary animals are beheaded, and a pair of familiar gold curtains swooshes shut to conceal every lightning-fast scene change, the charming staginess an intentional reminder of the material’s TV variety show roots.