Paul Whitelaw

Radio Times review

One of the biggest annual events in the international comedy calendar, the Just For Laughs festival in Montreal, Canada has played host to virtually every major comedian of the last 30 years.

In the first of two exclusive compilations for Comedy Central - older viewers will remember the days when Just For Laughs found its natural home on Channel 4 - stars including Kristen Schaal, Russell Howard, Mark Watson and the great Eddie Izzard take to the stages of Montreal's grand Place des Arts and the funkier Club Soda.

For better or worse, an interesting aspect of this coverage is seeing how internationally unknown British comedians fare in front of a foreign audience. Izzard is an established star, but will the lightweight whimsy of Howard and Watson survive the transatlantic crossing?

Radio Times review

There's something almost morbidly fascinating about this hopeless, hackneyed sitcom. The more it tries to sell itself as a frothy bit of fun, the more you can feel its gears groaning painfully through the motions. Has a jaunty ukulele soundtrack ever sounded so desperate?

The only mild highlight of the latest episode is a Lycra-clad guest performance from Rufus Jones - you may recognise him from eye-catching roles in Hunderby, W1A and Holy Flying Circus - as Alfie's swaggering South African boss. But even then he's merely a weak facsimile of every comedy alpha male from Peep Show's Johnson to Matt Berry in, well, everything. Very poor.

Radio Times review

Inspired by the Old Jews Telling Jokes franchise, this no-frills parade of gags has so far delighted us with the amateur stylings of various vicars, Scousers and boffins. Now it's the turn of some football managers, in this one-off edition for Sport Relief.

Framed against a plain background, they rattle through their repertoires of zingers and groaners as the production crew laugh spontaneously off-camera. Some of them seem slightly self-conscious, but that merely adds to the charm.

Highlights include former West Ham manager Alan Curbishley's quick-fire pun about a sleepwalking nun, and a shaggy dog story from Luton Town's John Still that suggests he won't be invited to Buckingham Palace any time soon.

Radio Times review

As the series that forms the BBC's sole bastion of alternative comedy continues, Lee deconstructs the idiocy of false nostalgia and knee-jerk xenophobia by examining Ukip's fears that Britain is about to be "swamped" by Bulgarian immigrants.

While observing that the Bulgarians are merely the latest scapegoats in an eternal stampede of small-minded cultural hysteria, he takes familiar bigoted arguments to their absurd conclusions. It's typically audacious stuff: when was the last time you found a reference to the ancient Beaker People in a stand-up comedy routine?

Meanwhile, hostile interrogator Chris Morris takes the crumpled comedian to task over his disingenuous methods and dwindling sense of purpose. Morris simply shaking his head in mute dismay is one of the funniest moments in the whole episode.

And watch out for a truly bizarre filmed epilogue starring those twin titans of cult character comedy, Kevin Eldon and Paul Putner.

Yonderland - box set review

Debbie's wacky, wonderful adventures in Yonderland are created by the brilliant Horrible Histories team - and it shows.

Radio Times review

The incomparable Miriam Margolyes has become a semi-regular on Graham's couch in recent years. It's easy to see why: charmingly eccentric and outrageous (the last time she was on she told a show-stealing story about "assisting" a sex-starved soldier up a tree in Edinburgh), she's one of those daffy English wits we thought we just didn't make any more.

Remember when the likes of Peter Ustinov and Kenneth Williams would frequently turn up on Parkinson and Wogan, not to plug anything in particular but just because they were always good value? Margolyes is one of the few remaining figures we have in that vein.

So, should fellow guests Lily Allen and Dominic Cooper fail to cut the mustard, Graham can always rely on his real star turn to pick up the slack.

Radio Times review

You've tittered at QI. You've guffawed at Would I Lie to You? So how will your sides cope with a brazen fusion of both formats?

That's obviously the thinking behind this derivative panel show, in which Lee Mack asks a team of celebrity guests to provide hard evidence for their seemingly outlandish claims. This week's unlikely facts include: dogs can "catch" their owners' yawns; shrimps are fitter than humans; and an adult male will never be shorter than his mother.

Padded out with pop-science facts, whimsical practical tests and based in a weirdly cramped, overly busy set - it looks like it's filmed in a stationary drawer - it has the whiff of a project cobbled together during a busy executive lunch. But it passes the time affably.

Mack's guests are Olivia Colman, Rhod Gilbert and Paul Hollywood, who gamely leaves his Bake Off comfort zone to see if it's possible to scale a wall using household vacuum cleaners.

Radio Times review

If you've seen Richard E. Grant being interviewed before, you'll know it's only a matter of time before the subject of breaking wind crops up. The man is obsessed. True to form, he cheerfully expounds on matters flatulent in the latest edition of this affable comedy chat show.

Joining him on the couch in the Kumars' flat of chat are actresses Emilia Fox and Caroline Quentin. The apparently rib-tickling double-meaning of Fox's surname is ground into the ground, although host Sanjeev Bhaskar does crack a decent gag at the expense of her illustrious acting dynasty: "As kids, were you, like an Indian family, forced into the family business?"

Laughter time! In Steve Coogan: Stand Up Down Under, the comedian takes his one-man show through Australia and New Zealand, while grumbling backstage about faulty microphones and the tedium of touring. And that's about it. While it's certainly interesting witnessing Coogan as himself, the repetitive nature of this self-produced documentary tends to wear thin.

Three-man sketch troupe Pappy's take another stab at TV glory with Badults, a tiresome flat-share sitcom that tries and fails to be a modern-day Goodies by way of The Young Ones (Or Filthy, Rich & Catflap: take your pick).

Despite being broad, silly and eager to please, the gags are uninspired and obvious, and the three of them seem to be playing the same noisy idiot character, albeit pitched at slightly different volumes. Its daffy spirit and intent are commendable, but no amount of good intentions can compensate for such weak material.