Frank Skinner

Great comedians can make anything funny. Eric Morecambe bleeding a radiator or Les Dawson reading out AutoTrader would be hilarious by default, but could modern standups work that same magic when, say, eating an entire watermelon or emptying a bathtub? Dave's new panel show hinges precariously on that premise, with a quintet of comics - this week including Frank Skinner, Tim Key and Roisin Conaty - performing acts at the behest of titular taskmaster Greg Davies. In practice, a premise unlikely to tickle the titter glands of many.

Frank Skinner has made a long and lucrative career out of being all things to all people. He's a sensitive aesthete in blokeish clothing, a 56-year-old who is still regarded as the epitome of a certain kind of laddism. Firstly, though, he's an accomplished standup. In this 2014 show, he explores everything from celebrity perks to charity shops.

Frank Skinner's Name That Tune suffers setbacks

Frank Skinner's return to ITV has suffered a setback following a series of problems and bad jokes including one about Rolf Harris, it has been reported.

Radio Times review

About once an episode, a guest on Frank Skinner's amiable pet-hates show makes a suggestion that immediately unites celebs, studio audience and viewing public. Adrian Chiles takes that mantle this week with his disdain for people who recline aircraft seats. It provides the best banter of the episode, too. Skinner has a stronger bond with Chiles, having witnessed many a West Bromwich Albion loss alongside him, than he does with the other two panellists.

They chip in, though. Des O'Connor springs to life with a perfectly timed gag about his own libido, while Radio 1's Jameela Jamil causes a generational and gender clash that's sometimes awkward, sometimes fruitful.

Radio Times review

For a while, Bob Mortimer isn't having much luck with his pet hates. Nobody seems to share his very specific dislike of shop assistants who put your change in your hand on top of the receipt, or his aversion to wrapping food in bacon.

But when he rails against the unripe fruit sold in supermarkets, suddenly the audience is with him, bursting into applause, and host Frank Skinner is onside, too. That's the thing with the micro-annoyances aired on this show - they're merely a leaping-off point for celebrity small talk. Also airing grievances are Rachel Riley (Essex girl stereotypes; officious people in uniforms) and Mrs Brown actor Brendan O'Carroll, who for some reason hates small pedal bins.

Radio Times review

Jonathan Ross wades in first with a complaint that many of the people at Radio Times share, the misuse of the word "literally". His argument involves a news story about Britney Spears in which a reporter said, "She's literally on a rollercoaster to hell". As Ross says, if that were true he'd watch her all night.

Other issues are a bit more contentious: Frank Skinner has a surprising response to Michael Vaughan's suggestion that footballer Luis Suárez is wrong to bite his opponents. And, I think for the first time, the icon used for two of comedian Sara Pascoe's pet peeves is almost the same - one just wears a watch.

Radio Times review

Most of us, I would imagine, could come up with more interesting pet hates to share with the nation than answering machines or the M25 - two of the topics here. But guests on this show don't have to try too hard. However tame their suggestions, Frank Skinner will swoop in with a punchline to make their story/observation/rant look like comedy gold. Or at worst, comedy bronze.

He rides to the rescue a few times as Kelly Holmes, Alexander Armstrong and Henry Blofeld air their grievances. When Armstrong wants to abolish the nothingy days between Christmas and New Year, Frank points out that most people enjoy the time off, telling Armstrong, "What you need is a harder job."

At one stage he even manages to flirt with Blofeld, which is not what anyone was expecting. One of the latter's complaints is, exactly as you would hope, restaurants that don't keep proper powdered English mustard.

Radio Times review

Ray Mears walks straight into Frank Skinner's comedy trap when he suggests that fakes should be consigned to Room 101. He always wants to have the real thing. "I agree. We tried to get Bear Grylls rather than you. But he cost ten grand!" is Skinner's response.

Ray brings a certain gravitas to the show, while fellow panellists Fiona Bruce and Canadian comedian Katherine Ryan keep it light. Actually, Ryan has some extraordinary dance moves and even more unusual pet peeves. She believes nappies should only be available on prescription, and that Cheryl Fernandez-Versini is not only part of a government conspiracy but also a robot.