Ian Wolf

Blandings is a new comedy series adapted from a collection of novels by P.G. Wodehouse, but it's already attracted a wide range of criticism. Much of the vitriol targets the show's family-friendly, 6.30pm slot on a Sunday evening, but there's also criticism from die-hard Wodehouse fans who believe that any adaptation of his work is sacrilege. Hey ho.

The series follows the residents of Blandings Castle; Clarence (Timothy Spall), who just wants a quiet life - and to spend time with his beloved pig, the Empress; his sister Connie (Jennifer Saunders), who constantly interfering with other people's business; and Clarence's loyal butler Beach (Mark Williams) - all of whom are pestered by visits from Clarence's idiotic son Freddie (Jack Farthing). In the opening episode, Clarence tries to enter the Empress into a fattest-pig contest, but his pig man is put in jail by his main rival.

The first thing that came to me when watching Blandings is that Spall can play a toff better than I thought. His performance as Clarence was great, as is his delivery of Wodehouse's lines, like when he demonstrates how persuasive his late wife was: "She once put forth such a forceful case for beetroot I actually put some in my mouth."

I was a bit annoyed by the gimmicky use of comic sound effects, whether it be with Freddie's terrible driving or Connie's stormy demands. You can try to ignore it, but it gets a bit tedious after a while.

On the whole though, Blandings is an entertaining half-hour and a decent way to pass the time - although I still expect a few comments from fans trying to push his books into my hands.

The words "Paddy McGuinness" send shivers down your spine - and not in a good way. McGuinness made his TV debut on Phoenix Nights, if you recall, and his career has been going from bad to worse ever since in the eyes of just about every reviewer and critic around.

Paddy's TV Guide follows a spate of cheap clip shows, with McGuinness presenting clips from TV shows (old and new) using a weekly theme. The first episode focused on health and fitness, with shows recorded on his "Paddy Player".

The clips themselves are mildly amusing, from an old exercise show featuring a woman dancing with candles to a tough American fitness instructor shouting at just about any mode of transport. But this programme, along with others like it (BBC One's Animal Antics for example) illustrate what I think is the main problem with clip shows; the way they're presented.

If you have a show which is just about clips, from TV shows, the internet, or recorded by members of the public, then what you want to see is just those clips. You don't want to see Paddy McGuinness doing some small routine in-between them, or Matthew Crosby dressed up as a dog in the case of Animal Antics. All you need's a voice-over.

Harry Hill made You've Been Framed watchable. We all know it's the cheesiest programme around, but because Hill's contribution is minimal, the viewers get to see more of what they want, rather than putting up with Jeremy Beadle and Lisa Riley trying to be funny between the clips.

Of course, it could just be the fact that Hill's funnier than any of those people, and that's probably Paddy McGuinness' biggest flaw too; he's not much cop.

This three-part documentary series, narrated by journalist Eddie Mair, looks at the 'darker', money-making side of the comedy world.

The first episode looks at how many comics, in particular stand-ups, make money by performing at corporates. It shows performances from The Real Variety Show where comics play in front of business people keen on booking them for events.

Then it follows the world of adverts, discussing comics like Mark Arden and Stephen Frost (who did ads for Carling Black Label) to QI creator John Lloyd (who first met Alan Davies when Lloyd directed ads for Abbey National.) I know there's a history of comics doing adverts - despite the public outrage at Mark Watson a few years back - but I was suprised at the frequency of appearances. Most of the ads were produced 'before my time' as it were, so were quite shocking in a way. Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie advertising tobacco?

It's definitely a growing trend, though; if you're feeling bored, you can play a little game where you try to spot how many times in a three-minute period you can hear the voice of Hugh Dennis.

Off all the people on Funny Business, though, the most interesting was Rhod Gilbert. Rhod explained how one corporate gig resulted in him sacking them off altogether, and how he justified doing adverts for the Welsh tourist board because he was promoting a country rather than a product. There were also interesting contributions from Mark Thomas, who attacked just about any involvement of comedians and advertising. The only advertising I can think that he has been involved in was with early episodes of The Mark Thomas Comedy Product, which were sponsored by small independent shops - like a gentlemen's hairdressers and a record shop.

Funny Business declares that the problem with advertising is that there's no funny ads. I can't help but think the problem's that there are ads to start with.

ITV has a great reputation of making drama, but not such a great reputation for comedy. Great Night Out seems to fall somewhere in between; not bad, but not great either.

The series follows four friends from Stockport: self-appointed leader Hodge (Lee Boardman), divorcee Beggsy (William Ash), nervous Glyn (Craig Parkinson), and pessimistic Daz (Stephen Walters). The quartet each spend a big night out, often with their wives, girlfriends and love interest, while getting impractical advice from their local pub landlord Warren (Ricky Tomlinson).

In this opening episode, Hodge has cocked-up his anniversary party, which is being held at a big hotel in Manchester (the entrance into which results in a chorus of boos from the Stockport Four). As Hodge parks his car he thinks he knocks over someone, but it turns out that the person is a drunk wanting to go to London. He, Beggsy and Daz get him on the train, only to find out he is a groom who has ditched his wife at the altar. The two rush to get him off the train, but (perhaps all too predictably), they don't get him off the train in time and they find themselves going to London. Meanwhile, Glyn "stalks" his childhood sweetheart to her salsa class, with help from Warren.

As I mention, some of the plot elements do seem to be somewhat predictable, as are some of the characters. For example, there is the instant dislike of the Australian man now married to Beggsy's ex, who has also taken his daughter down under. However, there are some nice visual gags, such a roadside seller of fridges called "Sellfridges", and other odd moments such as accusations that Fireman Sam might be gay.

These moments are fleeting, however, in a show that will probably not receive the kindest of obituaries...

CBBC's been trying to produce a range of sketch shows that can be enjoyed by both adults and children, such as Horrible Histories and the now axed Sorry, I've Got No Head. While these shows have been big hits - and the former has become one of most awarded sketches of recent years - I've never been that keen on them myself. Having said that, for the purpose of this column, I thought I'd give this new sketch series a go...

Fit is - you guessed it - a sketch show based on health and fitness. It has a wide range of sketches, which include an epic coin toss in the latest test between England and Australia; the Misspelt Games, which holds "trifle shooting" instead of "rifle shooting"; drinking fountains working out of sync; and a reality TV show take on athletics.

Some sketches, especially some of the one-joke quickies, fail to hit the mark, and others seem to have little to do with the show's theme (what have two mimes putting up shelves got to do with fitness?) But there were plenty of others worth an airing, like a charity collecting farts to help Britain's wind farms, and a sports wearhouse run by Peter Serafinowicz's long-running character Brian Butterfield (which I loved and I must admit is the main attraction for me.)

Despite its scattergun approach, this show's definitely worth a second chance - though how many kids it will encourage to get fit I don't know. Maybe the problem's that they spend too much time watching sketch shows on CBBC...

Gigglebox weekly #71

This week Ian Wolf gives his nightmare vision of the forthcoming royal birth, learns about a nude swimming pool and hears Charlie Brooker talking positively about something.

Charlie Brooker's take on 2012 was enjoyable for many reasons, no more so than the fact it took place after the year had ended - unlike all the other comedy reviews of the year.

Another reason, of course, was because the show covered quite a lot of events that people forgot about; the sinking of the Costa Concordia in January, for example, which Brooker covered by showing the idiotic comparisons made by Entertainment Weekly between Concordia and the film Titanic, including the probing question: "Was Celine Dion playing when it sank?"

There were other decent moments too, but some of these, like the campaign against Joseph Kony and Brooker's mocking of both Kony and the strangely cult-like people campaigning against him, were covered more in-depth by Brooker himself on 10 O'Clock Live. Speaking of which, 10 O'Clock Live also appeared on the show when Brooker covered Jimmy Carr's taxes.

However, when it comes to Brooker the most interesting part is when he stops going on about how awful things are and actually finds the positive things around us. In the case of 2012 it was the Olympics and Paralympics, and while these are, on a whole, not the funniest moments, they do provide us with a glimmer of joy in an otherwise gloriously miserable show.

With more Wipe programmes coming up in February, Brooker's work is perhaps the most satirical comedy around. Other shows should be encouraged to be as cutting and thought-provoking as this is.

Usually I tend not to cover solo stand-up shows on TV because they're usually just edited-down versions of DVDs, but this isn't the case with show from Simon Amstell. Fed up with all the stand-up DVDs out there, Amstell has decided to make to perform his latest stand-up show for the BBC rather than just release it as a DVD.

Numb, broadcast on BBC Four in a specially minimalist set at the TV Centre, is mostly about Amstell's own anxiety, relationships with his family, friends and boyfriends, and his views on pain, feeling and life itself.

There were so many high moments in the show, such as his experiences of holidaying alone in Amsterdam, going to a nude swimming pool, and how he is now so lonely he watches the least ethical porn he can find.

The show was indeed a good one, and for those who are perhaps not into this kind of comedy, Amstell could help start a trend. Hopefully other comedians might go this way of taking their comedy routines to TV rather than DVD. I would certainly welcome it.

Reviewing this programme's a bit of a problem because it's been in the newspapers all week, so it's hard to try and think about something new.

For those who might have been living in a cave since the year began, on this year's edition of the two-hour long panel game hosted by Jimmy Carr (cue jokes about him tax dodging), one team, consisting of Jack Whitehall and James Corden, supposedly got into trouble after drinking some wine on the set, getting tipsy, writing a random phone number on the screen which lead to people phoning some random member of the public, and making some rude jokes about the Queen which I'm not going to repeat. If you want to know what they are, watch the programme on 4oD and see it in context.

Concerning the phone number, it should be obvious that if you write just about any sequence of numbers down it will be someone's actual phone number and some idiots will ring it up. That was a bit stupid, and Channel 4 could have made an effort to do something about it. You know, like blur it out.

To be honest, though, I've no objection to the jokes about the Queen. Everyone knows that the Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells and Daily Mail brigades would get up on their high horses because, frankly, they enjoy draining the passion out of anything that isn't a repeat of Last of the Summer Wine - while at the same time complaining that they're too many repeats on TV. Since the "outrage" that the Mail has failed to stir up in the same way as it did with "Sachsgate", people have been fighting back in their own way, generally annoying the rag.

But I suppose the main reason why I personally didn't mind the jokes about the Queen is that over the past few years I've become sick of all the royal events on the box. First there was William and Kate getting married, then the Diamond Jubilee, now there's going to be a baby, and you just know the TV channels are going to give months and months of tedious analysis about the whole thing.

I've just got this nightmare vision in my head of Nicholas Witchell and his camera-crew trying to bribe a midwife so that they could get the BBC live exclusive access to the birth from the Duchess of Cambridge's private maternity unit, in which he will try to talk for about 18 hours straight with experts, while a camera will film Kate's most private parts constantly as they wait for the baby's head to come out the royal CENSORED.

Other than that however, The Big Fat Quiz of the Year was mostly enjoyable, except for some tedious reality TV guests - and the lacklustre Jonathan Ross. Shame Whitehall and Corden didn't try to get him drunk.

Radio weekly #19

This Christmas Ian Wolf listened to Jeremy Hardy's greatest musical rival and a silly Billy...