Carol Vorderman

Radio Times review

From the start there are hysterics tonight. Carol Vorderman collapses in helpless laughter at the very idea that fellow guest Kelly Hoppen washes her face with an orange every morning. Mind you, it's not much more plausible that Carol once shared her bed with a lion cub while staying at a safari park.

Both claims are tested to destruction on the comedy workbench, and as ever we're left marvelling at what a gem of a parlour game this is. Just listen to David Mitchell read from the card: "Whenever I see my postman Roy, he shouts 'Oggy! Oggy! Oggy!' and won't move on until I have replied 'Roy, Roy, Roy!'" You so want it to be true.

BBC head of values Ian Fletcher continues to try to assuage complaints of "institutional anti-West Country bias within the corporation", aided not at all by Jessica Hynes's savagely stupid PR Siobhan Sharpe. ("Let's ride this train, let's nail this puppy to the floor.") Meanwhile, with Carol Vorderman accidentally booked into a Clare Balding presenting gig, the Britain's Tastiest Village production team must "find a way of breaking the bad news to Carol in such a way that it doesn't sound like a giant and protracted cock-up". Delicious.

Tonight Jessica Hynes plays glorious havoc with the future of the BBC as PR consultant Siobhan snares head of values Ian Fletcher (Hugh Bonneville) on a fast train to Manchester.

He's on a damage-limitation exercise but Siobhan is on a cyber trip to hashtag mash-up city in a bid to launch 'Brand Fletcher' to the tweeting masses.

Back in London, events have set the lovely Carol Vorderman on a collision course with the lovely Clare Balding. Could get messy.

If you were disappointed that we didn't get to see more of Jessica Hynes's character [Siobhan Sharpe in last week's opening episode, tonight's blisteringly farcical instalment more than makes up for it.

The BBC's new Head Of Values, Ian Fletcher (Hugh Bonneville), and Tracey "I'm-not-being-funny-or-anything," Pritchard (Monica Dolan), are on the train to Salford where Ian is going to be interviewed by Jenni Murray on Woman's Hour about the BBC's alleged "institutional anti-West-Country bias".

It's a golden opportunity for him to change the subject by announcing that Carol Vorderman will be joining Alan Titchmarsh to co-present a new series called Britain's Tastiest Village.

Until, that is, Siobhan starts tweeting incessantly on Ian's behalf.

Meanwhile, Clare Balding is on her way to New Broadcasting House because she thinks that SHE is presenting Britain's Tastiest Village.

A perfect storm of a PR disaster is brewing and Siobhan Sharpe is the lunatic steering the boat straight into the middle of it.

Radio Times review

The cha-cha-cha theme music from Animal Magic they use over the opening titles of W1A will hang around in your head for days if you're not careful, and so will some of its cruelly funny scenes.

Last time, buzzword bunny Siobhan "Totally" Sharpe (Jessica Hynes) barely got a look in. Here she's centre stage as she muscles in on Ian's trip to appear on Woman's Hour in Salford. "Let's ride this train, let's nail this puppy to the floor!" she drones, while launching a Twitter campaign that races out of control ("We've just been re-tweeted by Enrique Iglesias!")

Ian (Hugh Bonneville) is trying to scotch the idea that the BBC has an institutional bias against the West Country (and that it's institutionally sexist and ageist), but his encounter with Jenni Murray slides steadily into farce.

Meanwhile, back in London, there's a crisis meeting over the double-booking of Carol Vorderman and Clare Balding to present Britain's Tastiest Village. Step forward dim intern Will ("Yah, cool") to save the day.

Final episode of the series for the Lee Mack-fronted panel show, which looks and feels a bit like QI with a dollop of How 2 chucked in for good measure. As if to prove that comparison correct, this week's guests include former How 2er Carol Vorderman who, along with Jimmy Carr and Terry Wogan, will be hoping to put to bed an argument older than the cosmos itself: are women better than men at remembering directions? If you can get past the migraine-inducing set dressing, it's diverting enough viewing.

Hats off to the BBC for broadcasting it [Episode 6] even though it centred on an inquiry into a national scandal and contained Nicola Murray's embarrassingly timely line, 'I think it's good to have an inquiry every now and then. It livens things up a bit.'

The writing was top-class from the minute spin doctor Stewart Pearson attempted to avoid any blame for the damage parliamentary leaks can cause by arguing, 'If someone chokes on a crisp, do you issue an arrest warrant for Gary Lineker?'

Even part-time insurance salesman Chris Addison got in on the act with Ollie Reeder's 'Knowledge is power, but that doesn't mean Carol Vorderman should be prime minister'.

Tucker stole the show, though. His protestation 'Je ne remember rien' was brilliantly withering, while his climactic rant about privacy really should mark an end to that particular debate.

In fact, I'd love to reprint it here in full. Mainly because I'm sure it's the longest he's ever gone without saying '****'.

As far as party hosts go, you can do far worse than the cheeky and infectious Alan Carr. That said, his celebrity guest list for this two-hour bash, which includes sketches, music, mad games and audience participation, is a bizarre one, ranging as it does from Justin Bieber and David Walliams to the cast of Made In Chelsea and, um, Carol Vorderman.

Now revamped as a panel show, Room 101's new incarnation benefits from the boisterous banter between the guests as they compete to have their pet peeves consigned to the dumpster. Tonight's hopefuls include Countdown crew members past and present, with current host Nick Hewer squaring up against the show's former number cruncher Carol Vorderman. Brash comedian Rhod Gilbert joins them as they bemoan personal horrors including advertising slogans, Facebook, and opening ceremonies.

Would I Lie to You? is a return of a series I would have bet hard cash would never be recommissioned. It's a quiz show whose only apparent point is to give part-time employment to comics whose stand-up is better sitting down, and Carol Vorderman. I thought I'd seen the end of this grisly equation of smugness, anger and pert pettiness, but I hadn't allowed for the half-life of quiz shows. The point of this one - and I use the word with a joyless laugh - is for the comics and Carol to tell us something that may or may not be a lie: "I once swallowed a comb" or "I have an irrational fear of balloons" or "My mother had no bottom". The hostage of all titles that contain question marks is that they incite answers. In this case, who cares? Who cares if you are lying? One had to go to A&E to have a Hoover attachment removed. I don't care, none of us cares. This show is neither remotely interesting nor edifying. It is science, and it is isn't entertainment. It's watching a dole queue of stupid under-achievers - except for Jo Brand, who is above criticism. She is the Florence Nightingale of sickly format and mortally wounded quiz shows.