Armstrong & Miller 'stand in solidarity' with Rowling

Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller, previously a comedy double-act, were among more than 50 public figures and anti-trans campaigners who signed the letter published in The Sunday Times, which condemns the "insidious, authoritarian and misogynistic" opposition to JK Rowling on social media. Other people in the world of comedy who signed the letter include Graham Linehan, Arthur Mathews, Griff Rhys Jones, Craig Brown, Francis Wheen, Jimmy Mulville, Frances Barber and James Dreyfus.

Tony Hancock had no children, but for decades his descendants have been all around us. Basil Fawlty, Rigsby from Rising Damp, Brian Potter from Phoenix Nights, Mark Corrigan from Peep Show, Alan Partridge - all inherited his genes, or at any rate his character's genes (it isn't easy to be sure of the difference, given that by far his most successful role was as a miserable actor-comedian called Tony Hancock).

It would be absurd to suggest the listed characters are identical - every one of them is a brilliant creation in his own right - but all are irritable, stuffy, pompous, emotionally constipated and prematurely middle-aged; they tut and sneer and grumble and moan, each convinced that Fate has singled him out for mistreatment he doesn't deserve.

All are in some way thwarted, yearning impotently for stardom (Partridge), status (Fawlty, Potter), a beautiful woman (Rigsby, Corrigan). And each, most importantly, exudes an air of pathos. No matter how wretchedly they behave, the viewer can't hate them. They remain somehow heroes, awful heroes, and against our better judgement we're on their side. Just as we were with their father, Hancock.

On Tuesday the great progenitor was the subject of BBC One's occasional series My Hero. Ben Miller, of Armstrong & Miller, was the man paying tribute, rummaging through his life and shaking his head in admiration at old scripts of Hancock's Half Hour. These scripts were written not by Hancock but by Ray Galton and Alan Simpson, whom Miller interviewed.

Given Hancock enjoyed vast success while Galton & Simpson were writing for him, and next to none after he'd got rid of them, it might be tempting to wonder whether My Hero should have been about them instead. But if Hancock's Half Hour was the biggest thing on radio and TV, it wasn't just because of the dialogue. Hancock himself - and again I'm not sure whether I mean the character, the man or both - stood for something. He stood for England, the England of the 1950s. Weary, glamourless, frustrated, frayed, but battling grumpily on - that was England, and that was Hancock. Hancock's success came to an end not long after the Fifties had. He killed himself in 1968.

Armstrong & Miller strut their posh stuff as a saucy Edwardian duo in a pilot for a new Simon Nye sitcom. A series will surely follow.

The year's 1908. The scene is the sitting room of old Oxford chums and modern men about town Felix (Ben Miller), an inventor, and Murdo (Alexander Armstrong), the ghosts of the past for a whole slew of sitcom characters to come.

Simon Nye's affectionate Edwardian version of Men Behaving Badly is a gleeful and (presumably) knowing mash-up of every anarchic comedy you can think of, from The Young Ones and Blackadder, to Ab Fab and, of course, Armstrong & Miller (the best bits of which follow), and it's a total hoot; as surreal, silly and puerile as you'd expect - and Armstrong & Miller fans would demand.

Produced for the Comedy Showcase season, this pilot was held over for C4's Christmas season despite having not a flake of snow or festive motif in it. It should stand out like a beacon amid all the repeats of second-rate sitcoms, Christmas specials and period dramas, whilst offering some fun period jokes of its own.

The mad, loose plot of sorts is surprisingly topical, taking in as it does the arrival of the Olympics to the capital and the world of banking, but largely it acts as a tree on which hang such baubles as scatological jokes, laugh-out-loud sight gags, a surreal clubbing scene, lots of Viz-style lewd humour and plain stupid lines such as: 'What is all this boats for women nonsense? Just give them all a boat.' Titter ye, as Frankie Howerd might have said.

Video: Armstrong & Miller on BBC Breakfast

Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller tell BBC Breakfast where they get the inspiration from for their comedy characters and justify a sketch on their show that makes fun of Breakfast TV.

Armstrong & Miller review: from strength to strength

This exceptionally witty, sharp and endearing duo do manage to serve up something for everyone, even if the majority of their material is aimed at the comfortably off whose biggest worry in life is whether or not they've correctly separated their waste for recycling.