Leigh Francis

Keith Lemon in dog house after puppy prize

Leigh Francis has been heavily criticised after his TV alter-ego Keith Lemon gave away a puppy as a prize on his TV show.

Leigh Francis's comedy character Keith Lemon - a failed businessman from Yorkshire who fancies himself as a ladies' man - has been popping up our screens for four years now. His panel show Celebrity Juice has gathered a loyal audience on ITV2, and last year recorded the highest ratings of any digital show. Now he's landed his debut prime-time terrestrial vehicle, fronting this anarchic twist on the Jim'll Fix It wish fulfilment format. Lemon meets members of the public with desires, dilemmas and niggles. In mischievous style, he attempts to solve their problems or make their dreams come true. Each week he'll be joined by a celebrity helper, starting tonight with Cilla Black - well-versed in these shiny-floored shows herself, as former presenter of Blind Date and Surprise Surprise! There's also music from Brighton hip-hop duo Rizzle Kicks and a chance for the audience to win prizes in daft game "Lemon Drops". Shamelessly cheesy family fodder, it won't be to everyone's taste, but this is harmless, big-hearted fun, and part of ITV's search for new Saturday night fixtures since the long-running TV Burp ended a fortnight ago.

Bo' Selecta! mourns lost mask

Bo' Selecta! writer Leigh Francis is mourning the loss of the infamous mask he used to lampoon Spice Girl Mel B on the sketch show.

Interview with Leigh Francis: Kaufman-esque

Leigh Francis is almost certainly better known as either celebrity stalker Avid Merrion, or entrepreneur Keith Lemon, two larger-than-life characters that often tend to overshadow the man behind them. In reality, Leigh Francis is actually one of the hardest working men in entertainment...

Who watches this? Why would anyone appear on it? Has Leigh Francis ever been funny, ever? Do you think Holly Willoughby despises Fearne Cotton as much as everyone else with half a brain? Questions, questions. No need to answer them. We don't care.

Michael Jackson looks back on his own life from a heavenly cloud in this irreverent version of his turbulent history, which was first shown last year. It comes courtesy of comedian Leigh Francis and a variety of rubber masks. Contributions from old Bo' Selecta! favourites, such as Craig David, sit alongside newbies including Kanye - sorry, Ken - West and Quincy Jones. Not recommended for earnest Jackson fans but this is none the less intermittently funny.

No more Bo' Selecta

Bo' Selecta! is leaving our TV screens - no doubt to the relief of Craig David. Leigh Francis, whose rubber-faced caricatures included one poking fun at the singer has revealed there will be no more Channel 4 shows. He said online: "No plans for any more Bo! Busy with a film script."

Jedward join Leigh Francis on Celebrity Juice

Keith Lemon takes aim at a ratings hit as he signs pop twins Jedward up for a regular skit on his new series of Celebrity Juice.

On Tuesday night, BBC Three aired the first episode of the six-part series The Gemma Factor. About a 20-year-old from a small Yorkshire village who desperately dreams of being famous for being famous, I expected it to be dripping with irony. The subject matter, after all, is ripe for some very easy satirical pickings. It's opening sequence, of Gemma skipping through the dreary village, spreading colour wherever she goes while singing a feelgood song seemed to be an ironic counterbalance to the cynical black comedy that I thought must surely follow. But, no. It's like that all the way through, positive to the point of nausea, crammed with lazy, stereotypical characters and without a single funny line.

There are rare glimpses at an attempt at satire, such as when Gemma wonders what the point of privacy is, but they fail to hit the target, and characters who try to make Gemma look at things in a more rational way, such as her friend Nell, are sidelined. Gwyneth Powell (Mrs McCluskey from Grange Hill) does put in a good turn as Gemma's Nan, Anna Gilthorpe's portrayal of ditsy Gemma is so sweet and full of optimism that it feels cruel to criticise the programme, and yes, of course there's a place for upbeat, jovial comedy. The problem is that it feels like a Children's BBC sitcom with knob gags, although that is perhaps being a little unkind to Big Cook and Little Cook. Who exactly was this aimed at? And what is the point it's trying to make? If it is, as I suspect, attempting to satirise the current obsession with fame and celebrity at the expense of talent, then it fails entirely. This is probably the first and last time I'll say the following sentence: Leigh Francis does it much, much better.