Just watched it again and this time I get it. Thirty-four years ago the script was over my head and I missed most of the double entendres. 1967 was a great
year for them as censorship had just been slackened. The pop star sequence is in fuzzy black and white because it's supposed to be on TV - yes, that's what it used to look like. (Did people really dance like that?)
The script is brilliant but sometimes the delivery is so throw-away the jokes are missed. Maybe as Peter Cook wrote them he didn't think they needed
underlining. For example, when Stanley borrows George's red nightshirt and
says something like "Does it really suit me? Red's not my colour, I'm usually more conservative." Red for socialism, blue for the conservative party. George's red socks were sported by Labour voters well into the conservative 70s and
80s.
Little things you may not know: Victorian nightshirts and long-legged bathing suits were a fad in 1967. George and Stanley when being themselves speak in
working class accents (unlike God). Dudley really was working class, unlike
Peter Cook.
RIP to both. Let's eat a bowl of raspberries and cream in their memories. xxxxxxxxxxx
year for them as censorship had just been slackened. The pop star sequence is in fuzzy black and white because it's supposed to be on TV - yes, that's what it used to look like. (Did people really dance like that?)
The script is brilliant but sometimes the delivery is so throw-away the jokes are missed. Maybe as Peter Cook wrote them he didn't think they needed
underlining. For example, when Stanley borrows George's red nightshirt and
says something like "Does it really suit me? Red's not my colour, I'm usually more conservative." Red for socialism, blue for the conservative party. George's red socks were sported by Labour voters well into the conservative 70s and
80s.
Little things you may not know: Victorian nightshirts and long-legged bathing suits were a fad in 1967. George and Stanley when being themselves speak in
working class accents (unlike God). Dudley really was working class, unlike
Peter Cook.
RIP to both. Let's eat a bowl of raspberries and cream in their memories. xxxxxxxxxxx