of Not the Um Um shows.

But then, with all due respect to the Bard of Avon, the enduring success of these immensely popular satirical productions is not the eloquence of the language, but rather the pithiness of the scripts and the colloquial richness with which they are delivered.

Of course, it also helps that those "who strut and fret their lines upon the stage'' are not Globe luvvies, but just a bunch of byes havin' fun.

In a world increasingly bound by political, social, ethnic and heaven-knows-what-else correctness, Not the Um Um gives us a rare opportunity to laugh at ourselves and those around us.

That these shows -- now scaled down to dinner theatre length -- have stood the test of time since they began in 1984 is no accident, for behind the humour and dead-on observations of local life lie stockpiles of scribbled notes, at least a year of writing and refining scripts, countless discussions and months of rehearsal.

As with all things well done, the seeming ease with which a Not the Um Um show flows and the continuous laughter it generates is deceptive. Successful comedy takes hard work and an innate understanding of its secrets.

"Timing is key,'' Bruce explains. "There is an internal logic to writing comedy -- it has structure and format.'' "The show should be very sharp and pointed, which makes you laugh, and makes you think.'' Writing for the latest creation, The New Bermuda Tour , began 15 months ago, and followed the time-honoured formula of weekly meetings where members of the Not the Um Um team chewed over ideas and contributed to the writing. As always, their aim was to write at least one sketch per week.

From copious notes recorded by Bruce, brother Fred typed the first, raw draft.

Extensive discussions and several rewrites later, the final script, from which everyone learned his lines, was produced.

"Even then, sometimes when we began acting, we discovered it was better to do it another way,'' Bruce notes.

Material for sketches is drawn from the rich mother lode of timeless idiocies and irritants germane to daily life here, allowing them to be written well in advance, and fine-tuned at a later date.

"Everybody's had to stand in the bank; everybody's been in a restaurant where there's a surly waiter; and everybody's experienced difficult relationships,'' Bruce explains.

Capturing the essence of such vicissitudes requires a keen eye and an ever-ready pen, and the Not the Um Um team never rests.

"We are all more observant now,'' says Bruce. "We try to look for sketch material in every day life and make a note of it.'' Radio Mohawk, "de sound of St. Daaavid's'', is the vehicle by which current events and politicians are handled. Since these are news format segments, read by Bruce as the established `announcer', material can be updated immediately before showtime. Indeed, the cast arrives before each performance armed with a copy of The Royal Gazette for this very purpose.

Practices such as this are what give Not the Um Um shows their topical edge, and delight the faithful.

If performances seem effortless, Bruce admits that writing for them is anything but. In fact, the creative process is something of "a grind'', and there are times when, despite everyone's best efforts, a sketch won't gel.

When that happens the material is stored (nothing, however tentative, is wasted) to be revisited, even years later.

"Not everything you write is going to be good,'' Bruce admits, "but the thing you write is better than what you haven't written.'' The reward for the creative struggle, they say, is standing on stage and getting the laughs.

"Every time you walk out on stage in front of an audience, there is a surge of adrenalin. When you hear the first applause, that's validation,'' Bruce notes.

And what if a joke falls flat? "Well, if they don't get one joke, there's always another coming up,'' Bruce philosophises. "We have even done jokes in Latin. If only five people get it -- and we're the only five, well ... take a deep breath, something else is coming.

"Each audience is different. If you anticipate laughter, you're not going to get it. If there is laughter, you don't kill it by continuing to talk.

"Our first director, Randy Leers, taught us about pace: keeping the show going so that people don't have a chance to think about whether something is bad because here comes something else.'' Six months into the creative process, the cast take stock of their "inventory'', decide what's viable and what isn't, and begin work on timing and refining their formula, which in the case of the new, cabaret-style show is: several sketches, three Mohawk sections, a musical medley in the middle, and a musical finale.

In terms of "stage time'' and who gets the best lines, democracy rules -- as with everything else in this long-running success story.

"We take great pains to see that everybody has the same amount of stage time, and the same number of stage appearances,'' Bruce explains. "No-one gets any more attention than anyone else. It's a four-man show.

"We never have people fighting over a script. There's give and take, and it's all very amicable. We know what we're doing, we know how to do it, and it's a lot of fun.'' Aficionados will notice the absence of Sean Dill, who now lives in New York, and Chris Broadhurst, due to business and family commitments, from the current line-up. Chris will, however, be singing and playing guitar before each night's performance. Stalwarts still carrying the Not Um Um banner, in addition to the Barritt brothers, are Peter Smith and Tim Taylor.

A shift in lifestyles also accounts for the revised standard version of what remains one of Bermuda's hottest entertainment tickets.

"Our personal and business lives have changed,'' Fred points out. "Where once we all had jobs, we now have careers; where we had girlfriends, we have wives; and where we had apartments, now we have homes.

"We have lots of ideas that would work -- we've thought about doing a TV show and there's the fringe festival -- but we just don't have time. It's a shame.'' With a hint of nostalgia, Bruce recalls the days when the carefree young thespians would devote whole Saturdays to creating videos, and a week to editing them. Today, a simple cardboard box holds the props, and costume changes are limited to variations on their personal wardrobes. Nonetheless, it is still a case of, "Have great show, will travel''.

"We're very bookable,'' Fred quips. "Anything for a buck.'' Pause. "Well ... not quite -- we don't do The Full Monty!'' While the present road show is a business venture, past, full-length productions have raised more than $100,000 for charity.

When The New Bermuda Tour (miss it at your peril), which has been touring various clubs and apre ns-diner venues each weekend since May 27, winds up on Saturday night, the cast will take a break for Cup Match and the month of August. Thereafter, they will review their future plans based on demand.

Meanwhile, read all about Not the Um Um shows, and how to book them, on their web site at nottheumum.bm.

For tonight's, tomorrow's and Saturday's performances, doors open at 7.15 p.m., showtime begins at 8 p.m. with local singers Hop 'n' Onion, followed by Chris Broadhurst at 8.30 p.m., and The New Bermuda Tour at 9 p.m. All tickets are sold, and there is no reserved seating.

Winning formula: The Not the Um Um team have been keeping audiences amused for 15 years with their topical sketches.

Bruce Barritt