Tim Conway’s name is inseparable from some of the most unforgettable moments in television comedy, but even among his legendary work, the Dentist Sketch on The Carol Burnett Show stands in a class of its own. Decades later, audiences still laugh just as hard, not because it feels dated or nostalgic, but because it captures something timeless and utterly human.
Behind the scenes, Conway later revealed the exact moment everything went off the rails. What began as a tightly rehearsed sketch quickly transformed into something no script could have predicted. Playing a painfully nervous dentist, Conway made a split-second decision to abandon the written plan and follow his instincts instead.
The turning point came when his character accidentally injected himself with Novocain. Conway committed fully to the idea, letting his arm go limp, his leg buckle without warning, and his face freeze into a masterpiece of confusion and deadpan misery. Nothing about it felt exaggerated or forced — which made it far more dangerous.
Across from him, Harvey Korman was fighting for survival. Trained, disciplined, and famously professional, Harvey tried with everything he had to stay in character. You can see it on his face — the clenched jaw, the trembling shoulders, the desperate effort to regain control.
But there was no safe way out. Conway’s performance lived in an uncanny space where it wasn’t quite a joke and not quite reality, leaving Harvey’s instincts with nowhere to land. As Conway later recalled, he could actually see Harvey shaking as his composure began to collapse.
Then it happened. Harvey lost it completely. The laughter wasn’t polite or controlled — it was explosive, uncontrollable, and utterly genuine. Once he broke, the energy in the room shifted instantly.
The studio audience erupted, feeding off the chaos unfolding live before them. Laughter roared so loudly that it threatened to drown out the sketch itself. What viewers were witnessing wasn’t acting anymore — it was a room full of people surrendering to the moment.
Even Carol Burnett, the steady anchor of the show, had to flee the stage. She ran off simply to avoid breaking down on camera, later admitting there was no way she could have held it together once the dam burst.
What ultimately aired wasn’t carefully constructed comedy. It was something rarer: pure, spontaneous human laughter captured on tape. No one could have recreated it, and no one would dare try.
That unscripted breakdown became television history. It proved, once and for all, that when Tim Conway and Harvey Korman shared a stage, discipline could collapse at any second — and that was exactly what made their comedy immortal.
