John Sessions

Noel Fielding, who looks like a cross between Sandie Shaw and Russell Brand, is tonight's headline act. But the Bristol audience isn't sure how to deal with him. There's a bit of reserve and possibly even bafflement in the applause. Which is perfectly understandable, as Fielding's brand of delicate surrealism withers under the glare of a broad-brush comedy show. Much more mainstream are John Sessions lookalike Hal Cruttenden, who does a very good camp Alexander the Great; Seann Walsh and his routine about why people don't use moving walkways in airports; and Mike Gunn, who makes jokes about his wife. But, as always, it's McIntyre the audience has really come to see and he wins them over completely with his impression of a rail ticket inspector and his account of reading the bedtime story on CBeebies.

Jon Culshaw (Dead Ringers) and Debra Stephenson (Frankie Baldwin in Coronation Street) join forces in this new sketch show featuring their range of almost flawless impersonations. With his brilliant George W Bush on Dead Ringers, Culshaw has already established himself as a John Sessions for the Noughties. It's remarkable, though, that Stephenson hasn't unveiled her impersonating skill until now. She does a mean (in both senses) Anne Robinson, and performs some impressive facial gymnastics as a hyperventilating Davina McCall getting so excited over a bedtime story she ends up upside down. As is eternally the way with these shows, the quality of the jokes lags behind the success of the impressions themselves. The sight of Culshaw and Stephenson as Adrian Chiles and Christine Bleakley on the sofa of The One Show is as banal as the original - though it's made up for by Culshaw's superbly dead-eyed Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall barbecuing a polecat on Autumnwatch in front of Stephenson's Kate Humble. Most impressively of all, Stephenson nails the voices of not just one but both Minogues - Kylie as an irrepressibly sunny little pixie, and Dannii a steely, glacial automaton.

You may think that rock and roll musicians in particular are in no need of being satirised, as they do the job pretty well themselves. Well, that doesn't mean they aren't ripe for a bit of a ribbing. Matt Lucas, himself no stranger to making the michael out of rock gods with David Walliams in Rock Profile on BBC2, hosts this chronological countdown of the best of the mickey-takers.

Step forward Neil Innes with his tales of Rutlemania; Harry Shearer, who turns the amp all the way up to 11 with Spinal Tap (surely the definite send-up/homage) and the Hee Bee Gee Bees... remember Meaningless Songs (in Very High Voices)? They had Angus Deayton among their number but got Richard Curtis to write the lyrics. Not bad.

Quite why Stella Street is here is a bit of a mystery to me - just because Phil Cornwell and John Sessions get to practise their Mick and Keef voices doesn't make it satire.

Plenty of great music, a few lightly tossed anecdotes and - voila! - an hour of high-quality entertainment.

Fry's delight

Quizmaster Stephen Fry is joined by two of his best buddies in this week's QI. It's a real luvvie fest, thanks to the presence of John Sessions, who's appeared on the show several times before, and first-timer Emma Thompson. She and Fry go way back, of course. They met at Cambridge, and were members of the famous Footlights troupe, which also included Tony Slattery and Hugh Laurie. They've appeared on screen together in such projects as Alfresco and Peter's Friends.

Unlike the doomed Sessions, to whom we were almost compelled to feel indebted, Baddiel and Skinner make us feel as though we are their contemporaries. This isn't a performance we're watching, it's a happening (albeit a low-key happening) that we're part of.

Nice Day At The Office (BBC1), a new comedy series, is encouragingly cast. Timothy Spall, John Sessions and Anna Massey must have found it promising though only a studio audience could enjoy this sort of thing: "I swear I'll report you to Human Resources, you disgusting drunken pervert." "Shut up you dried-up old bag."

John Sessions: On The Spot (BBC2) was a wild career around his subconscious. Given four objects to improvise on, which only serve to inflame an overheated imagination, he swings from allusion to allusion with the agility of a gibbon in a forest fire. For us it was like being caught in a fusillade of Proust, Ibsen, EastEnders, and actors in various stages of neurosis.