Circuit Training 9: After Humph

It must have been hard for Jack Dee to keep that sour face in place over the last few weeks, as he seems to have mysteriously been granted national treasure status. In early October the career curmudgeon was awarded an honorary degree by the University of Winchester, but a more prestigious prize awaited a week later when Dee was named the new host of I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue, stepping into the illustrious slippers of the late, great Humphrey Lyttelton.

Now I assume that Clue's long-time listeners are unlikely to sound off on internet messageboards in the manner of irate football fans, so am as-yet unaware of any anti-Jack backlash, but don't be surprised if some furious tut-tutting soon takes place over tea behind the twitching curtains of Radio 4's suburban heartland. Succeeding Humph is a bit like taking over from Sir Alex Ferguson: both are formidable acts to follow, if rather different personalities.

I've never spoken to Dee but apparently he's far from grumpy off air. I have interviewed Humph, however, which was marvellous and certainly the assignment my mum was most impressed by, apart from the time I got to have a nose around Gary Lineker's new house (then-fiancée Danielle Bux was otherwise engaged, sadly).

Listening back to that interview two years on - Lyttelton, not Lineker - there are a few behind-the-scenes nuggets that never made it into our Metro piece. For the uninitiated, ISIHAC was devised as a parody of panel shows, with a jazz trumpeter [Lyttelton] acting as bemused host, several future Goodies as regular guests and at least one round, Mornington Crescent, which may well be devoid of rules altogether. Vexed traditionalists take note: the venerable chairman wasn't averse to change.

"It must have been round about November 1971 when we did the pilot show, and that was done absolutely ad-libbed from the word go," recalled Humph, back in August 2007. "Since that time we've had what I call 'safety nets' of a little bit of prepared stuff, because where TV would have a whole day, or probably a whole week to do improvised things, with radio you've got to be out of the studio or it costs too much money. You haven't got that time to start a thing then go back and do it all over again. But the first one was completely ad-libbed. It consisted of the original four: Graeme Garden, Tim Brooke-Taylor, Jo Kendall and Bill Oddie, and consisted of them spending the couple of hours sweating profusely."

Buzz, repetition of 'consisted'... sorry, wrong Radio 4 panel show. A rare slip there from Humph, who spoke in such wonderfully clear, concise English that the transcription was an utter joy, as opposed to the usual RSI-inducing chore. He was also quite admirably honest, modest, and ever so slightly rock 'n' roll...

"I breeze in, as near to the last minute as possible," admitted the host, of a typical day's recording. "For the last few years we've had a wonderful scriptwriter, Iain Pattinson, and he writes some lovely stuff for me. When I get the cards, which is usually quite late, I read it through at least four times so that one of his gags doesn't come up and hit me, because I'm liable to get the giggles."

Ah, those gags. Dee has had a crack at chairing the show already, during the recent rotating-host series and on a national tour, but it'll be interesting to hear how he adapts to the role's unique demands long-term. Clue is famous for its 'blue chip filth,' as Humph put it, much of which circumnavigated the Beeb censors chiefly due to the host's charming naivety (Dave have gone for a similar approach with John Sergeant on Argumental, albeit in a rather less subtle manner).

Will the saucy exploits of mythical scorer Samantha be so palatable to a Sunday afternoon audience with Dee reading them? Even his predecessor had regular run-ins with the top brass, it turns out.

"Very often, either in London or somewhere else, we get together with the controller of Radio 4 and we have had moments of extreme doubt about things," said Humph. "To me, a surprising lot of it gets through. But I'm very careful to read the stuff that's on the card straight through. Every now and then you do a little bit of adjustment in the pronunciation, but otherwise just read it through, and avoid at all costs setting it up or reading it with a sort of leer. Because that would be disastrous."

Indeed, so we'll see how it works with a sneer. If Dee doesn't please the listeners, perhaps they could revert to the original blueprint and try out another faux-naïve figure from the music industry: I'm thinking Morrissey. Well, he could do with taking it easier.