June Whitfield

I don't wish to raise unnecessary alarm, but there was a rather strange development at BBC1 last Monday as the continuity guy introduced the Absolutely Fabulous Olympic special. Because these were his exact words: 'Next tonight, comedy gold as Eddie and Patsy get into the Olympic spirit.'

My initial concern here was that the BBC appeared to have caught a nasty case of 'reviewing our own show' disease, which medical sources suggest was first brought into this country by a Mr S Cowell, of London. Half an hour later.

If this is to be the last we see of their grotesque creations they will never be able to say with any degree of honesty that they went out on a high.

I had an even greater problem. Namely, how do I go about suing the national broadcaster for a flagrant breach of the Trades Descriptions Act?
Because this was not gold of any kind, least of all comedy. In fact, for the most part it wasn't comedy of any kind, either.

Yes, there was the odd wry Olympics observation, although nothing that could touch the satirical majesty of BBC2's brilliant Twenty Twelve. And yes, there was a very clever sight gag when Patsy held up Eddie's body contouring all-in-one.
But the rest of the jokes were so lame that on more than one occasion I swear I spotted Derek Redmond's dad rushing up to help them over the line.

They saved the worst one - a real stinker about Clare Balding which I cannot even bring myself to commit to print here - until near the end. (Presumably the thinking was that they would get away with it because most people would have switched off by then.)

Of course, it is Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley I feel most sorry for. If this is to be the last we see of their grotesque creations they will never be able to say with any degree of honesty that they went out on a high.
In Olympic terms, they never even got near the podium.

At best it had the feel of a tired and uninspired end-of-the-run panto. At worst it was like watching a low-rent drag act spewing out filth and innuendo in the vain hope of getting at least one laugh in a grotty East End pub.

Plus, it was in no way helped by the most irritatingly intrusive laughter track in history, which featured one spectacularly loud woman who sounded like a hyena on HRT being fed into a woodchipper.

On a more positive note, it will have provided a welcome boost to David Jason's ego. Because thanks to some of the physical comedy on show here, his performances in The Royal Bodyguard have now slipped to No 2 on this year's Most Toe-Curling TV Slapstick chart.
David can also boast that the BBC didn't hijack his show and fill it with sneaky and self-congratulatory plugs for their upcoming Jubilee coverage. Jennifer Saunders didn't get off so lightly.

First say (the criminally wasted Julia Sawalha) had a line about how much better the TV coverage of the Olympics is in Britain than in Africa. Then Gran (the genuinely wonderful June Whitfield) gave the BBC another premature pat on the back with this closing thought: 'I don't understand why anyone would actually want to be there when they can watch it in comfort on the good old Auntie Beeb.'

Charge your flutes with vodka champagne cocktail, Ab Fab fans! This could be the last-ever episode (although there are rumours of a movie). Certainly, it's the last of three specials, after two at Christmas and New Year, reuniting the bad girls of chichi Holland Park for their 20th anniversary.

Why the long wait? Well, this was always intended as an Olympics-themed edition, with the Games descending abruptly upon Patsy and Eddy's blinkered lives. Eddy could go for gold herself - if there were a category for partying and pratfalls. Sadly, Patsy looks set to be left at the starting line: she's developed, well, let's just say a little issue whenever she sneezes and is in need of a "tightening procedure".

Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley are on top form with the physical comedy and waspish remarks. June Whitfield's Gran is as endearingly batty as ever and tonight gets the final funny line - if not the last laugh. Watch out for cameos by Dames Kelly Holmes and Tanni Grey-Thompson, as well as fashion designer Stella McCartney, for whom Eddy has developed something of a girl crush. It is not reciprocated.

First of four comedies starring June Whitfield. In this one, "Spray the Grass Green" by Andy Merriam and Peter Morfoot and set in 1939, she plays fading Hollywood star Lana Garfield who learns her studio boss is about to rip up her contract. Enter George (David Haig), a ghost writer. Revenge is imminent. Not that Miss Whitfield herself would ever have to think of such a thing. From Eth in "The Glums" on Take It from Here in 1953 to Miss Marple on Radio 4, from Radio 2's News Huddlines to BBC TV's Ab Fab, she's queen of the airwaves. Long may she reign.

A minute with June Whitfield and Joanna Lumley

Twenty years after the first broadcast, Absolutely Fabulous is back on BBC One on Christmas Day - in the first of three 30-minute special episodes.

June Whitfield interview

The return of Ab Fab finds June Whitfield on top form. She's even hopeful of a small part in Downton Abbey.

June Whitfield interview

As Ab Fab returns to our screens for a 20th anniversary special, June Whitfield talks about her six decades of work with the biggest names in the business.

With a title like Absolutely Fabulous, it is hard to see how Jennifer Saunders's series will acknowledge the economic downturn when its latest instalment is broadcast over Christmas.

Still, Harriet Thorpe, who appears in it, tells me: "Jennifer keeps everything current. She acknowledges the recession, but doesn't make it all about that."

Speaking at the first night of Crazy for You in the West End, Thorpe adds: "It's very clever, and, of course, incredibly funny to see how the characters cope."

Their co-star June Whitfield says, perhaps even more depressingly, that Eddy and Patsy are shown to be getting on a bit. The actress, 85, insists that this "opens up a whole new avenue of hilarity".

June Whitfield's radio career began in 1953 when she became the nation's darling as Eth in The Glums on Take It from Here. And radio, where she's appeared in top shows in every decade since, remains her first love as she reveals here in a conversation (about comedy, stars and how she learned the fine art of timing) with radio drama director Enyd Williams, linking a three-hour omnibus of those very programmes. There's a Take It from Here (1957), Crowther's Crowd (1963), The Frankie Howerd Show (1966), Punch Line (1980), The News Huddlines (2000) and a Miss Marple (directed by Williams) from 1993.

June Whitfield interviewed: Take It From June

As I rummaged in the BBC archive searching for programmes to celebrate June Whitfield's radio years, a thought popped into my head. Should the history of British radio and TV have a special new acronym - TBJ - Time Before June?

"I never touched your mother until after we were married," announces Alf Garnett. "Well after," adds his wife.

Sex and the Sitcom was all very enjoyable but over far too quickly. Provide your own punchline.

Narrated by Madeline Smith, the cause of erotic frenzy in many a seventies sitcom male - and my adolescent self - the documentary chronicled sexual mores and manners in the UK as reflected in its situation comedies.

Frustration featured quite prominently, as did inadequacy, embarrassment and anxiety, mostly located in male characters like Rigsby, Reginald Perrin and Hancock. Even the arrival of the permissive society failed to loosen the British sitcom's stays, although the programme did find a bizarre and disturbing clip featuring Terry Scott and June Whitfield planning an orgy.

For years the only man seen revelling in the physical delights of the opposite sex was Frankie Howerd in Up Pompeii, testament to what a fine actor he was.

When sex itself eventually made an appearance it was women characters who were invariably in the vanguard - the insatiable Dorian from Birds Of A Feather, Mildred trying to seduce George, Miss Jones' pursuit of Phillip in Rising Damp.

Leslie Phillips did play a sexually predatory man in Casanova '73, but public outrage caused it to lose its prime time spot after three episodes. The sitcom male has remained resolutely inadequate ever since.