Michael McIntyre

That's Jessie J under the swirl of shaving foam, and the reason she's posing like the queen of the Oompa Loompas is that she'll be shaving her hair off as part of tonight's culmination to Red Nose Day. Yes, it's time for the stunts and dares and unlikely comedy mash-ups to reach their bubbling live climax.

As ever, we can expect unmissable moments delivered by an almost obscenely starry line-up. Presenters include Michael McIntyre, Rob Brydon, John Bishop, Davina McCall, Jonathan Ross and (careful, now...) Russell Brand. Ricky Gervais will bring David Brent out of retirement. There are mini-eps of Call the Midwife and Fresh Meat, a cook-off between Jack Whitehall and Micky Flanagan, and of course a new novelty pop promo from Peter Kay.

The trick for viewers is to flash the cash early. Text the donation line or get out the credit card at an early stage, then relax as the night rolls by. You'll never make it through all those heartbreaking appeal films if you don't know your money's on its way.

You know the routine by now: let the children stay up a little late, don your red nose and get ready to donate, as television's finest entertainers prepare to make us chuckle for charity. It's the 25th anniversary of this kind-hearted TV telethon, and the roster of celebrities involved is not to be sniffed at.

Some familiar faces present the evening's festivities, including Dermot O'Leary, Michael McIntyre and Rob Brydon. Things kick off with Rowan Atkinson masquerading as the Archbishop of Canterbury, Jessie J shaving off her hair and One Direction performing their charity single One Way - let's hope David Cameron, who featured in the video, makes an appearance. Among the many other highlights is the cast of Call the Midwife cast performing a mini-episode featuring an unusual birth. Meanwhile, Homeland's Damian Lewis guest stars in a Vicar of Dibley special. Office fans will also be delighted to hear that David Brent returns to our screens, when Comic Relief switches over to BBC Two at 10.30pm. As ever, this is a full-on evening. There will be laughter, probably some tears, and hopefully a large sum raised at the end of it.

Michael McIntyre's £60-a-day diet

Michael McIntyre is understood to have enlisted the help of Pure Package, a bespoke diet service, to help him shift the pounds on and off for the last two years.

The Alternative Comedy Experience made an excellent point about its subject - if only it were a little bit funnier.

When did 'alternative' become a dirty word in comedy circles? Early on in The Alternative Comedy Experience (Comedy Central), Stewart Lee noted that 'for an entire generation of people, alternative comedy is a pejorative term', which led to a cracking definition of what the term alternative comedy actually means: 'Every second joke is funny.'

The tongue was firmly in cheek but there's a serious mission behind Lee's latest comedy caper. Disgruntled by the relentless commodification of comedy - the stadium tours, the DVDs, the rent-a-gob TV panel shows - Lee is after giving a chance to comedians with an edge to them. Let's kick Michael Mcintyre and the pack of mainstream comics who dominate TV's comedy schedules into touch.

It's a noble cause but, of course, The Alternative Comedy Experience, which consists of stand-up highlights from an Edinburgh club, is tucked away late at night on a minority channel. No scaring of the horses there, but it's a start. Comedy, like rock music in 1976, has become safe and complacent, the one-time young guns suckered into safety by money. You can scarcely blame them, but I will anyway.

My only wish is that it had been a bit funnier. Issy Suttie, Peep Show's Dobbie, and token crazy German Henning Wehn, seemed like safe, first-episode choices when here was a chance to really roam around comedy's outer fringes. David O'Doherty was the pick of the unfamiliar faces, coming up with the gag of the night which started with the economic crisis and ended with badminton. But it wasn't nearly enough.

For the most part, Lee's off-stage chats with the comedians easily eclipsed anything that had gone down on stage, prompting the idea that Lee should have a stab at being an alternative chat show host. That would be one with no guests.

Funny Business, narrated by Radio 4 newsman Eddie Mair, showed us what comedians were doing when they weren't monopolising television - to wit selling their souls at lucrative corporate dinners. Here was the menu - half an hour of Michael McIntyre for £40,000, Ricky Gervais for £25,000. Lesser lights got less, but how could you resist? You were right there in the shop window prostituting your art. One lavish event, the Real Variety Show, with its audience of hardnosed business types, could land you 30 other corporate gigs. Jo Brand and Arthur Smith bared their shame but took the money. Everyone had experience of being ignored on stage. Rhod Gilbert was visibly distressed as he relived the night he found himself talking to the back of Sir Alex Ferguson's head at a footballers' beano in Mayfair.

It was revealing but long-winded, and I found myself wondering how much Eddie Mair was getting paid as we drifted into the overvisited realm of vintage advertising with its (yawn) clips of Fry and Laurie selling cigars and John Cleese being zany in the service of Schweppes. "Wherever you look now, money's spoiled it," said Cleese from his Monte Carlo apartment.

Astounding news as BBC2's new three-part series Funny Business revealed that Michael McIntyre commands a higher fee for a corporate gig than Ricky Gervais (told you you should've agreed to do the dance, Ricky.)

We also met the promoter who gave Jimmy Carr his first-ever paid booking back in the days when Jimmy's career was more Haven holiday park than tax haven. Sadly, the promoter didn't elaborate further so we were left wondering a) how much Jimmy was paid and b) how much he was left with after tax. My guesses are a) around £50 and b) around £50.)

The corporate gigs are not for everyone, though. Following a particularly soul-destroying half-hour set at one PFA annual dinner Rhod Gilbert vowed never to do another. 'I just remember seeing Alex Ferguson's back as he talked to someone during my act.' Could've been worse, Rhod. Fergie could've demanded an extra seven minutes.

In Funny Business (BBC2), the first of a series, Eddie Mair narrated an investigation into the ways in which standup comedians can make big money, none of which is by telling jokes in comedy clubs.

Appearing in adverts is one way, but many comics find selling stuff on TV to be inconsistent with either their morals or their sense of humour. Not that many, actually. Less objectionable is the corporate gig. You're just doing your act, albeit in front of a room full of company managers for an obscene amount of money. Ricky Gervais gets £25,000 for a 20-minute corporate set. Michael McIntyre gets £40,000. It's not surprising that up-and-coming comedians on corporate booker Jeremy Lee's roster fall over themselves to appear in his annual Real Variety Show, essentially a huge audition for an audience of events company managers. Again, it's just a gig, you end your set with the punchline: "I'm available for bookings, and I also host!"

A lot of comedians won't touch corporate gigs either, but not necessarily for the reason you might think. "I doubt there's one comedian in the world," said Arthur Smith, "who hasn't died on his or her arse at a corporate gig."

Jo Brand finds them bracing - "If you do corporates, you get the message that not everyone loves you," she says - but Rhod Gilbert still gets heart palpitations just driving by the venues of old corporate failures. It may be filthy lucre, but it doesn't sound like easy money.

Funny Business, BBC Two, review

Michael McIntyre: £40,000. Ricky Gervais: £25,000. Jason Manford: £25,000. Jo Brand: £10,000-£25,000. Barry Cryer - who after that lot looks an absolute steal - is £2,000-£5,000. This, according to Funny Business, is what it costs to hire the above to tell some jokes at a corporate event.