Beyond the Script: The Moment Harvey Korman Realized There Was No Escape

For Harvey Korman, fear didn’t come from forgotten lines or the pressure of live television.

It came from Tim Conway.

Working on The Carol Burnett Show was supposed to be joyful chaos — brilliant sketches, a roaring audience, and a safety net of rehearsal. But Korman later admitted that when Conway was involved, that safety net didn’t exist.

Because Tim Conway never followed the script.

Not sometimes.
Not accidentally.
But deliberately.

The One Rule Conway Loved to Break

Most performers fear live TV because anything can go wrong.

Tim Conway lived for it.

Korman often explained that Conway treated rehearsals as a suggestion, not a plan. He would learn the outline of a sketch — then wait. Not to mess up… but to strike.

He saved his real performance for the live taping, when there was no stopping the scene, no resetting the moment, and no protection for his fellow actors.

Especially Harvey Korman.

The Familiar Sketch That Became a Trap

During one recurring sketch — one they had performed before and that appeared to be unfolding exactly as planned — Korman felt safe. The beats were familiar. The rhythm was right. The audience was with them.

Then Conway made a choice.

Without warning, he veered off script.

Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just enough to change everything.

In that instant, Korman realized the worst possible truth:
There was no escape.

The lines no longer mattered. The blocking was useless. And Conway’s face — calm, innocent, almost curious — told Korman this wasn’t a mistake.

It was a setup.

The Moment Survival Took Over

Korman later described the feeling as sheer panic masked by professionalism. He couldn’t break character. He couldn’t stop the sketch. And he couldn’t predict what Conway would do next.

All he could do was react.

That’s when the magic happened.

The audience didn’t know it, but they were watching something raw — a seasoned actor pushed beyond preparation into pure instinct. Korman wasn’t acting fear.

He was living it.

And Conway, sensing it, pushed further — stretching pauses, adding nonsense, delivering lines designed to crack him open.

Why Korman Always Lost

Harvey Korman was famously corpsing — struggling not to laugh — and Conway knew exactly how to exploit it.

The more Korman tried to maintain control, the more Conway dismantled it. Slow walks. Absurd logic. Deadpan delivery that made the moment unbearable.

Korman once admitted that working with Conway felt like standing onstage knowing a trapdoor could open at any second — and you’d never see the lever move.

Carol Burnett Knew — and Let It Happen

Even Carol Burnett understood what was happening.

She famously encouraged Conway’s unpredictability because it created something television rarely captures: authentic reaction. Not scripted laughter. Not planned chaos.

Real human response.

That’s why those sketches still resonate decades later — they weren’t polished perfection. They were controlled disasters.

Why This Moment Still Matters

What Korman realized that day wasn’t just that Conway had gone rogue.

He realized that the line between acting and survival had vanished.

No script.
No safety net.
No control.

Only talent, timing, and the ability to stay standing while everything collapsed around you.

And somehow — incredibly — that’s what made it unforgettable.

Harvey Korman didn’t fear live television.

He feared Tim Conway — smiling calmly, waiting for the exact moment to remove the floor.

And that’s why those sketches didn’t just make people laugh.

They made comedy history.