Stone me, what a sitcom.

It would probably come as no surprise to learn that I am a devourer of the classic comedy sitcom.

It’s been the case since as early as junior school, when I kept two scrapbooks: one devoted to The Beatles and the other to Blackadder. Any time either a Fab or a ‘Blab’ appeared in a newspaper, the article would be carefully cut out and Pritt-stuck into the appropriate tome – often with my own little handwritten notes alongside it.

My first ever gig was pre-assembly at the St. Nicholas JMI school, playing the Blackadder theme on an upright piano as my fellow students filed in.

I was obsessed with the dry, sarcastic wit of Rowan Atkinson – and desperately wanted some of it for myself. I managed to convince my junior school friends that the BBC were going to make a series I was writing called 'March! Jenkins' (an idea lovingly ripped from 'Blackadder Goes Forth') – and spend many a lunch break drilling them through scenes from it.

I was a megalomaniac even then.

I can’t imagine I understood half of the more adult references at that point, but I loved the programme nevertheless – and still return to the likes of 'Blackadder', 'Porridge' and 'Fawlty Towers' at regular intervals, for comfort and inspiration.

My current favourite, however, was stumbled across only relatively recently - but ever since discovering it I can’t get enough. I’m referring to 'Hancock’s Half Hour'.

For me, both this and its follow-up, 'Hancock', are built around one of the most successful marriages between writers and cast of all time. Galton & Simpson’s scripts are faultless – and still as sharp as a pin a good fifty years later. The chemistry between Hancock and Sid James is also wonderful, with countless pitch-perfect bit-part performances from the likes of Hugh Lloyd, June Whitfield and Kenneth Williams thrown in to boot.

It’s a shame that Sid became so associated with the Carry On films of later years; his performances with Tony Hancock were subtle, beautifully-timed and never missed a beat.

'Hancock' as a format was also ahead of its time. The comedy was built entirely around the characters and their situation – and any joke that got an easy laugh in initial read-throughs would often be dropped, in favour of something more subtle and truthful. 

It has occasionally been suggested that Tony Hancock had limited talent – and was only good when riding on the coattails of Galton & Simpson. That, for me, is rubbish; yes, his work was at its finest at this stage of his career – but let's not forget that everything was written for him, and based around his persona. His timing and performance was always on-the-money, with just the right amount of bravado mixed with pathos to pull it all off. He was also an exceptional sight-reader; apparently known to bring the radio scripts to life from the off, even when cold-reading.

It’s such a shame that so many episodes were deleted by the BBC – although it does serve to illustrate just how good Galton & Simpson's strike-rate was, that all that survived are of such a high standard; one can only imagine what we’re missing out on.

You can see a full list of missing episodes here; what a pity that television was then still young enough for the tape-stock to be deemed more valuable than the programmes that were recorded onto it.

It's tragic that Tony Hancock's life ended as it did, at the tender age of 44; that his quest for truth in comedy ultimately ate him up, and he buckled under the pressure of it all. His comedy was so human, yet the human being behind it just couldn't cope.

God bless you, Tony.

...but if you've never seen or heard any of 'Hancock's Half Hour' I envy you. You've got such a treat in store.

I suggest you start with 'The Economy Drive'. It's a cracker.