Rob Brydon

Double acts: Today's comics & their vintage lookalikes

Nice to see you... Rob Brydon may say to a young Bruce Forsyth, for the Welsh funnyman looks remarkably like the television veteran in his younger years.

The return of cuddly comedy

The nominations for Saturday's British Comedy Awards are full of comics you would happily introduce to your grandmother. How refreshing.

I met Ronnie Corbett once. It was during my time as a gossip columnist on this paper. I spotted him at a party and, somewhat starstruck, decided to approach and introduce myself. He was all right, I suppose, though not terribly polite. He didn't, he sniffed, read The Independent. More of a Telegraph man (must be the jokes). Anyway, he's 80 now, and BBC2 has devoted a few hours of scheduling to the occasion. First up was a rerun of The Two Ronnies Christmas Special from 1984, and then Being Ronnie Corbett, a fawning programme of dedications. We got Matt Lucas and David Walliams, Catherine Tate and Michael Palin, Miranda Hart, Rob Brydon, Stephen Merchant, and Bill Bailey. Even Bruce Forsyth put in an appearance. They all heaped praise on him, and deservedly so. After all, it wasn't them he was rude to at a party, was it? And he's jolly funny, or used to be, back in the day. Repeated clips of The Frost Report and The Two Ronnies were testimony to that. His more recent stuff, less so. That Extras sketch is great, of course - "a bit of whiz, you know? To blow away the cobwebs" - but, really, Ronnie, Little Britain? "I was just grateful to be included," was his explanation. And, to be honest, I believe him. This is a man whose raison d'être has been making people laugh; of course, he wants to keep up with the times. Why else would he agree to cuddle a half-naked Lucas in the least funny show on television?

Season's greetings from Auntie's Reckless Nostalgia department, where Ronnie Corbett is sitting in a corner, tweaking his glasses as he panic-knits gags for this 80th birthday bun-fight. Intended as a celebration of the minute octogenarian's career, it's a peculiar affair, with famous guests (Richard Wilson, Rob Brydon, Catherine Tate) scattered like novelty pencil toppers among wilting sketches about dongles and trapped wind. Still, there's an air of genuine affection to proceedings, and Corbett's way with a one-liner remains one of light entertainment's most enduring marvels. "I have my own treadmill at home. I'm only doing widths at the moment . . .")

The BBC is onto a good thing by celebrating this comedy legend while he's still very much alive and kicking. National treasures are usually whored out by broadcasters until every last drop of funny (and money) has been squeezed out of them, or ignored until they've passed away.

With its subject still in the land of the living, the mood of the programme was celebratory and jovial, with Corbett himself appearing as the star talking head. Of course there was plenty of retrospect as he looked back over his career, but the fact remains that Ronnie has clearly retained all his faculties and is still a very funny man.

For those who enjoy analysing and dissecting comedy - as opposed to merely laughing at it - it was a sweet little study of what makes this man so funny. His height (or lack thereof) is, of course, a major factor, but his natural talent is undeniable.

Corbett looked back fondly and honestly on his long career, with the help of more fashionable comedians like Stephen Merchant and Rob Brydon. Happily, given the many programmes the BBC is dedicating to him over Christmas, he suffers neither from the startling arrogance, nor from the false modesty that seems to afflict so many stars.

It's true that his particular style of comedy isn't to modern tastes and the old clips will look like camp variety acts to young eyes, but with everyone from Miranda Hart to Bill Bailey claiming to have been inspired by The Two Ronnies, it's hard to deny their appeal.

Given the insight promised by the title Being Ronnie Corbett, it's tempting to make a Ronnie-esque joke about what the weather's like down there for the vertically challenged comedian, but I won't. That doesn't count...

There are only two legitimate excuses for not watching The Trip over Christmas. The first is that you've already seen it, and the second is that you spent Christmas Day eating to such a relentless degree that the sight of food completely repulses you. If you don't fall into either of those categories, then a viewing is mandatory. The promos might have made this BBC series look like one long self-indulgent Michael Caine-off, but there's so much more to it than that. Steve Coogan gives a layered, pathos-drenched career-best performance - as himself, admittedly - and Rob Brydon proves to be his perfect foil. And Michael Winterbottom manages to make the Lake District look more beautiful than ever. It's extremely funny, too. Quite possibly the best TV series of the year.

He's the man they turned to when Brucey was too ill to present Strictly. He was caught taking drugs in Extras and entertained Bubbles DeVere in Little Britain. This year, to mark his 80th birthday, he'll have his own Christmas Day sketch show. Yes, it can only be unlikely national treasure Ronnie Corbett, the short comedian with the long career, charted here with loving input from his hordes of admirers including Miranda Hart, Rob Brydon, Stephen Merchant, Matt Lucas and Michael Palin.

Charming and entertaining documentary Being Ronnie Corbett pays homage to the nation's favourite vertically challenged comedian.

Ronnie celebrated his 80th birthday at the start of this month, and he is in sparkling form here as he looks back on his career spanning half a century.

It goes from his early days feeling up Danny La Rue's boobs during West End cabaret shows, to his snorting cocaine off a toilet seat in Extras, via his famous chair where he delivered his signature shaggy dog stories.

Fellow comedians including the likes of Rob Brydon, Matt Lucas, David Walliams and Catherine Tate queue up to give him a not insubstantial verbal pat on the back.

Affable comedian Rob Brydon (The Trip, Gavin & Stacey) asks cranky colleagues Jo Brand and Jack Dee to spread festive cheer on this light-hearted entertainment show. The two guests play up to their bah-humbug personas, with Brand suggesting an unusual way to get rid of unwanted relatives. Sozzled children's entertainer Jeremy Lion (Justin Edwards) offers a hilarious, wine-fuelled take on The Twelve Days of Christmas. And gothic rocker Alice Cooper shares the sofa with charismatic baritone Bryn Terfel.

Radio Times review

Even more brutally self-lacerating than Simon Amstell's portrayal of himself in Grandma's House was this extraordinary confessional from Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon.

A shapeless, talky, part-improvised thing with the will-this-do premise of the pair touring the north of England to review restaurants, The Trip saw Coogan play a needy, competitive egotist, terrified of career stagnation and depressed by his wrecked personal life.

Brydon, equally bravely, presented a comedian who's addicted to easy laughs, constantly doing impressions to avoid being himself. Yes, it was incredibly funny - a whole half-hour could be dedicated to Coogan and Brydon trading impersonations and improvisations, and many episodes weren't far off doing just that. But The Trip stood out as one of the most uncompromising celebs-as-themselves comedies ever.