Words that were meant to be read aloud in a particular way were stretched, twisted, and delivered with comic timing so unpredictable that the audience couldn’t anticipate the next beat.
Harvey Korman, the consummate straight man and the anchor of the sketch, attempted to maintain control. His character required composure, seriousness, and precise delivery. But Conway’s improvisation was relentless.
Korman’s shoulders began to quiver; his attempts at speaking were interrupted by stifled laughter; his perfectly timed expressions betrayed the growing chaos around him.
The man who was supposed to enforce the rhythm, the timing, and the structure was helpless. Conway’s genius lay in his ability to sense precisely when Korman’s composure would crack, and to push the scene just far enough to make that inevitable.
“Tim… please,” Korman gasped at one point, caught between laughter and despair. His voice wavered. His efforts to continue with the sketch were completely undermined by Conway’s improvisation, which escalated with every word.Continue reading…