Harvey Korman Said the Scariest Part of Working With Tim Conway Was Simple: He Never Followed the Rehearsal

For most actors, rehearsal is safety.
For Harvey Korman, rehearsal with Tim Conway was a warning — not a guarantee.

Korman once admitted that the most terrifying part of sharing the stage with Conway wasn’t forgetting lines or missing cues. It was knowing that at any moment, Conway might decide to ignore everything they practiced.

And when he did, there was no escape.

Everything Was Going Perfectly — Until It Wasn’t

In one now-legendary sketch on The Carol Burnett Show, the rhythm was flawless. Same lines. Same timing. Same familiar setup the cast had run through countless times.

Korman was relaxed. Ready. In control.

Then Conway changed one tiny detail.

It wasn’t clever.
It wasn’t witty.
It didn’t even make sense.

It was just… wrong.

The Exact Moment You Can See Panic Set In

If you watch closely, you can pinpoint the second it happens.

Korman hears the line.
He freezes.
His eyes flicker.
His mouth tightens.

You can almost see his brain scrambling for logic — searching for a way to respond that keeps the sketch alive.

There isn’t one.

Because Conway didn’t just bend the joke — he broke the rules of the reality they were performing in.

This Wasn’t Laughter. It Was Survival.

What followed wasn’t scripted comedy.

It was instinct.

Korman wasn’t laughing because the line was funny. He was laughing because there was no safe way out. If he acknowledged the line, the sketch collapsed. If he ignored it, Conway would push further.

Laughter was the only defense left.

And Conway knew it.

That was his genius.

Why Tim Conway Was So Dangerous on Stage

Conway understood something most comedians don’t: the most powerful weapon in comedy isn’t a punchline — it’s uncertainty.

By deliberately violating logic, he forced his scene partners into a corner where authenticity took over. Their reactions weren’t performed. They were real.

Fear.
Confusion.
Helpless laughter.

That’s why the moments still work decades later. You aren’t watching actors pretending to lose control.

You’re watching professionals actually lose it.

Harvey Korman Never Had a Chance — and He Knew It

Korman later joked that working with Conway felt like walking into a trap you could see… but couldn’t avoid. The audience sensed it too. That tension — the risk of total collapse — made every sketch electric.

You didn’t tune in just to hear jokes.

You tuned in to see whether Harvey would survive the scene.

Sometimes, he didn’t.

And those were the moments that became immortal.

Why We’re Still Talking About It

In today’s era of precision comedy and tightly controlled performances, Conway’s approach feels almost reckless.

But that recklessness created something rare: moments so alive, so fragile, and so human that they can’t be replicated.

One wrong line.
One frozen second.
One actor with no safe response.

That’s not just comedy.

That’s lightning — caught on camera.