Barry Cryer

The former chief exec of Channel 4 goes in search of the origins of the joke and attempts to discover its earliest example. So he starts in Liverpool with comedy legend Ken Dodd. Trawling history for evidence of what tickled our ancestors, Grade discovers it was basically the same mother-in-law gags and references to anal wind we all love so much now. Interesting contributions come from Tim Vine and the ever-sharp Barry Cryer. Seriously, he must sleep in an amber cave.

A shame that what could have been an entertaining foray into the history of joke-telling should be so lacking in humour. There's nothing inherently wrong with the premise of the documentary in which Michael Grade asks whether there is such a thing as a new joke or whether we are laughing at the same things our ancestors did - it's just that it's all a little boring. Ken Dodd, Barry Cryer and Tim Vine are among those pointing the way as Grade discovers what Romans and Tudors found funny, why lettuce was once thought amusing, why a 14th century papal secretary was responsible for one of the first joke books and why the BBC once censored some jokes - chambermaids and lodgers were among the banned topics.

Barry Cryer falls on stage

Barry Cryer fell about 4 feet from the side of the stage at the Tenbury Regal tonight after misjudging the exit into the wings.

All performers, and especially comedians, would like to have credibility. This was the subject of Funny Business (BBC Two), a show in which I took a personal interest, because I once harboured the illusion that I could do after-dinner speeches and commercials and thereby pick up some easy money.

Until recently, straight actors lost credibility if they did commercials. Sir Laurence Olivier did a Polaroid commercial, but only on the understanding that it would never be screened in the UK. Today, however, George Clooney hustles coffee and Brad Pitt barks for Chanel No5. The money might go to charity, but it still counts as a fast buck. Nevertheless, the actors get away with it.

For the comedians it has always been a hard choice. A commercial will look like slumming unless it is funny enough to be thought of as part of the comedian's repertoire. Another question mark hangs over the corporate event appearance, where months of big bucks can be earned in a single night. But people who haven't paid to see you, and who are sitting at round tables which ensure that many of them are facing the wrong way, are a soul-destroying prospect.

Intelligent comic operatives such as Barry Cryer, John Lloyd and John Cleese were united in the opinion that the business opportunities form part of the career. But I can say from experience that it hurts when it goes wrong. I once did a big, expensive set of plugs for Australian Telecom in the very year that their opposition came out with a better product. And the money wasn't all that easy. There is a small hill of red dirt somewhere near Alice Springs that is flatter now because of the number of times I had to walk up it.

Funny Business, BBC Two, review

Michael McIntyre: £40,000. Ricky Gervais: £25,000. Jason Manford: £25,000. Jo Brand: £10,000-£25,000. Barry Cryer - who after that lot looks an absolute steal - is £2,000-£5,000. This, according to Funny Business, is what it costs to hire the above to tell some jokes at a corporate event.

My haven: Barry Cryer

Barry Cryer, the comedy legend, 77, at the Middlesex home he's shared with his wife Terry for 45 years.

A profile of the Glaswegian entertainer and talented mimic who performed most of his sketches in the guise of celebrities of the day. Famously, Baxter would use clever editing to portray all the characters in a scene and was the first person to play the current Queen on TV. We hear how he started his career in Scottish variety theatre and the Army entertainment corps, before going on to draw huge audiences during the Seventies and Eighties for his TV specials - until the cost of his epic productions priced him off our screens. Fans and friends including Michael Grade, Barry Cryer, Bill Oddie and Gregor Fisher pay tribute.

Anyone casually inferring that the title of this 90-minute documentary might shed light on the inner workings of knowing music-hall surrealist Frankie Howerd is likely to be mildly disappointed. The Lost Tapes is far more interested in his stage-and-screen career than his occasionally tumultuous private life. That said, the plethora of footage unearthed here is an absolute treat for any fan of British comedy. Bruce Forsyth, Tim Vine, Ross Noble, Roy Hudd, Galton & Simpson and the eternally youthful Barry Cryer guide us through clips ranging from Frankie's stint at Peter Cook's Establishment Club to his scenes - sadly left on the cutting-room floor - with Wendy Richard and Paul McCartney in The Beatles' Help! to footage of another musical misfire in his role opposite The Bee Gees in the regrettable promotional movie that accompanied their Cucumber Castle LP. Other nuggets include clips from 1973 Up Pompeii! rehash Whoops Baghdad and a 1976 sitcom made for Canadian TV.

The main Radio 4 comedy celebrating Christmas was I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue, broadcast as a 45-minute long extended edition. Stephen Fry was the guest, alongside host Jack Dee, panellists Tim Brooke-Taylor, Barry Cryer and Graeme Garden, and pianist Colin Sell - although sadly no Samantha (Sven took the place as scorer).

In the special there was the usual selection of rounds, from "Mornington Crescent" to "Sound Charades", and "Nativity Radio Times" to "One Song to the Tune of Another", which allows the listeners to hear Fry's version of Goodness Gracious Me to the tune of The First Noel, a sound which makes you wonder who would win a singing contest between Fry and Jeremy Hardy...

One of my main complaints about the BBC's comedy programming in 2012 was the lack of coverage it gave to the ISIHAC's 40th anniversary. This show was almost the only marker of the celebration, whereas the 45th anniversary of Just a Minute was given extensive coverage, including a TV adaptation (the third in its history) and episodes recorded in India.

JAM's a great comedy too, of course, but I do think that ISIHAC is the better of the two. And if the BBC aren't going to honour it then hopefully I can here. Here's to another 40 years of funnies - maybe...

Barry Cryer: ISIHAC is best when it's falling apart

As the long-running Radio 4 show returns, the stalwart panelist celebrates the late Humphrey Lyttelton, his replacement Jack Dee - and the importance of silliness.