Barry Cryer

I recommend Best Possible Taste, a warm, witty and respectful tribute to the ground-breaking DJ and comedian Kenny Everett that, while never shying away from the more troubled aspects of his character, actually goes out of its way to celebrate his genius.

Closer in spirit to the delightful Eric & Ernie and Tony Roche's winningly irreverent Holy Flying Circus - Ev's comic alter-egos, from Sid Snot to Cupid Stunt, act as a Greek chorus throughout - it's clearly a labour of love from screenwriter Tim Whitnall, whose ability to write about comedians with affectionate insight was previously established by his award-winning stage-play Morecambe.

With Ev's ex-wife and soul-mate Lee and his key collaborator Barry Cryer both acting as consultants, Whitnall's film abounds with a sense of anecdotal charm and detail that so many of these biopics lack. Sure, it begins with our hero recovering from a suicide attempt, and pivots around his struggle to come to terms with his homosexuality, but it never treats him crassly. Instead he's portrayed as an inveterate rebel with a self-destructive streak, whose total mastery of his craft clashed with his private anxieties. That's artists for you.

Framed as an unorthodox love story between Ev and Lee, it's a touching portrait of a sensitive, brilliant, loveable, maddening man trying to find his place in the world, before tragically passing away years before his time. Newcomer Oliver Lansley is simply outstanding in the lead role, inhabiting Ev's various personae - including his softly-spoken actual self - with uncanny accuracy and depth. If this magnificent performance isn't rewarded with a BAFTA next year, then I'll shake my fist at the sun in anger. That'll show them.

Ex-Coronation Street actress Katherine Kelly provides excellent support as the strong-willed Lee, and there are even a few colourful cameos from Freddie Mercury, Michael Winner and Dickie Attenborough (the latter essayed by Simon Callow in Full-Callow mode).

While many of these biopics often look as though they were made for the price of a packet of Swan Vestas, director James Strong does wonders with his resources here, producing a beautiful, inventive piece that its late subject may well have approved of. Alas, the budget cuts at BBC Four suggest that this will be their last drama for quite some time. But at least they've gone out on a high.

The old ones are best (I should know, I'm one of them)

Being a stand-up at 77 is great. I tell jokes and stories - the younger performers don't. Their comedy is observational, they talk about life and themselves.

A welcome return for the panel show hosted by Charlie Brooker that looks for the worst in everything and spins it into comedy gold. For example - your ideas, please, for the most appalling concept album? I'll leave you to insert your own ideas there and introduce the panellists: reliable Lee Mack; rising Scottish comic Susan Calman (a News Quiz regular); and the "who he?", Daniel Maier (answer: a writer on Harry Hill's TV Burp, so no slouch when it comes to gags).

You'll laugh your socks off - and future episodes are also worth catching, with guests including "the Legend" Barry Cryer, Graham Linehan (Father Ted) and Isy Suttie, doleful Dobby from Peep Show.

Barry Cryer's still a tryer

He's one of Britain's best-loved comedians and a veteran of the business. But ahead of his return to Leeds in his new one-man show, Barry Cryer tells Neil Hudson why he's still taking nothing for granted.

My heroes and heroines: Barry Cryer

Barry Cryer talks about some of his personal heroes and heroines.

The great Barry Cryer, stalwart of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue and one of the best comedy script-writers Britain has ever produced, takes his place on Lee Mack's team in the last episode of the series (next week's is a best-bits compilation).

He remains convincingly po-faced as he tells some incredible tales. Does he really hail a local bus by saying, "Hello, darling"? Did he ever write romantic novels under a female pseudonym?

Sue Perkins just about manages to get a word in edgeways, and Lorraine Kelly is a giggly good sport on David Mitchell's team with Dara O'Briain. But, as ever, it's Mitchell and Mack's banter that steals the show.

Forget the other guests, Lee Mack and David Mitchell are such sharply funny antagonists that they should have a show all to themselves. Still, Dara O'Briain should prove good value as he parachutes in from Mock The Week tonight, while keeping the Amusing Golden Oldie seat warm is the legendary Barry Cryer.

BBC producers are a wily bunch. When Eartha Kitt was at the height of her international career it would have been impossible to persuade her to show up at an old music hall theatre in Leeds for a one-song appearance. But Barney Colehan, producer of BBC TV's The Good Old Days for all of its 30-year history, pulled off this coup by telling her that he had arranged for her to use the dressing room that Charlie Chaplin had occupied at the start of his career.

The fact that there was no way of knowing which of the many dressing rooms Chaplin might have used has programme host Paul Merton howling with laughter, one of many occasions when he cracks up over the course of his look at the history of the City Varieties Music Hall in Leeds. It's Britain's oldest music hall and has just reopened after a major refurbishment.

Merton is joined in this celebration of variety shows by Barry Cryer, Roy Hudd and Ken Dodd. The latter was the headline act at the gala reopening of the Varieties on 18 September 2011. Mr Cryer, on the other hand, recalls his first appearance at the venue in the 1950s, when music hall was out of favour and he shared the stage with ladies performing acts entitled "Fun and Dames" and "See the Nipples and Die!" There's no such roll call these days and, with the success of Britain's Got Talent, Merton hopes for a resurgence of variety shows.

Between 1953 and 1983, the Leeds City Varieties music hall was known around the country as the home of the BBC's Victorian-style entertainment show The Good Old Days. In this enjoyably droll and observational tour through the BBC archives, Paul Merton investigates the history of the venue - which has recently undergone a multi-million pound refurbishment - and wonders if the music hall tradition is due a comeback after years in the wilderness. He's aided in this task by a handful of evocative clips from the TV show as well as interviews with three of the oldest hands in the business: Ken Dodd, Barry Cryer and Roy Hudd.

This much I know: Richard Herring

The comedian, 44, on love, personal deficiencies and why Barry Cryer is still the best.