Watson & Oliver: let's give them a chance

The path from comedy circuit favourite to television fame does not always run smoothly. Take Lorna Watson and Ingrid Oliver. In the noughties they regularly appeared on the Edinburgh Fringe where their shows were enjoyable, energetic affairs in tiny venues, defined by a heady mix of good writing and committed performances. Any flaws or fluffs were handled with a knowing, cheeky grin, as if to say: "You only paid a tenner, we're in a shoebox, what did you expect?"

Fast forward to BBC2 and their self-titled debut TV series. You don't need high definition to see that over the series the twosome – who stick to a classic, broad template with the occasional twist – could be stretched. There were some strong skits in the second episode – I liked their wannabe sexy classical musicians and their well-executed-if-obvious unreconstructed Mad Men send-up, Bad Men – but there were bum notes too. And not just the bad singing in their predictable costume drama spoof, Absolutely No Sense and Sensibility.

Making fans fall about in the flesh is no guarantee of television success. Watson and Oliver are not the only sketch group to have had paying punters giggling into their pints, but got lost in televisual translation. Pappy's are a legend in comedy clubs. Their gigs often make the most of very cheap props, from children's toys to tin foil costumes, which is fun live but on television just looks, well, cheap. Not surprisingly, their Channel 4 Comedy Lab pilot failed to capture their in-your-face anarchic glee.

Watson & Oliver have gone for something more slick for BBC2. The special guest budget must have been blown in episode one on John Barrowman as there was no star-based finale in their second outing. This was useful as it curbed comparisons with Morecambe & Wise. The pair have also been not entirely helpfully hyped as the new French and Saunders, but in fact Watson & Oliver owe a comedy debt to many previous comic duos. Their In Bed with Kate and Wills running gag feels like a homage to Eric and Ernie and when Lorna and Ingrid appeared in their matching dark suits I couldn't help thinking they had visited the same tailor as Mel & Sue.

Sketch comedy is thriving on the live circuit. Last December the Lyric Theatre staged an entire bill of sketch combos, including Anna Crilly and Katy Wix, who have their own Channel 4 series in the pipeline, and William Andrews and Greg McHugh (the latter plays uber-geek Howard in Fresh Meat). Club favourites Cardinal Burns get their break this March with their own E4 vehicle. The talent is there in abundance, but getting it to work under the TV microscope is another matter. As soon as Watson & Oliver's series started, Twitter went into a frenzy, with opinion ranging from "Brilliant ... recommission it immediately" to "Worse than Horne & Corden". It is patently impossible to please everyone.

TV Comedies rarely have the luxury of being discovered naturally. Roger and Val Have Just Got In and Miranda are two recent exceptions. And sketch shows are scrutinised down to the last punchline. Yet it often feels like luck who gets the breaks. Of the current club crop, I'm surprised Idiots of Ants, whose gigs are so polished they resemble TV programmes, have not had major screen exposure yet. Looking back, I always wondered why Hudson and Pepperdine did not move from Radio 4 to television. Maybe Mel & Sue had the token female slot back then. Give Watson & Oliver a chance, they may just make it. If not there are plenty of acts queuing up to take their place.