Stephen Fry

Shown on Christmas Day last year, this 60-minute documentary was made to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the sitcom. Rowan Atkinson talks about the development of his character, Edmund Blackadder, plus there are interviews with the core cast (Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie and Tony Robinson) and writing team (Ben Elton and Richard Curtis).

Do you remember Johnny Morris and Animal Magic? Well, somebody at the BBC does and they've decided to resurrect his old gag of lending funny voices to our furry, and scaly, friends.

Morris, mindful of his obligation to educate as well as amuse, used the device sparingly. Walk on the Wild Side, however, tries to fill an entire half-hour with wildlife verbiage and the joke is stretched very, very thin indeed.

Some moments are genuinely inspired. Who amongst us has not laughed at, discussed with friends or summoned up on YouTube the doctored footage of the marmot calling after his mate Alan? And who can blame the BBC for trailing it endlessly to promote the show?

Unfortunately, nothing else in Walk on the Wild Side is anywhere near as funny, clever or perfectly synched. The gorilla squeezing out farts is fitfully amusing, as was Stephen Fry expressing the languid musings of a giant panda. But Walk on the Wild Side is a novelty filler, not an entire programme. Talking animals merit ten minutes' screen time, maximum.

This new series sets comic voice-overs to wildlife footage. Critics may claim it's another example of lowest-common-denominator humour, in the manner of ITV1's Animals Do the Funniest Things, yet it's hard not to smile at the sight of a weight-obsessed panda and a hip hop-loving badger. The filming is provided by the BBC's Natural History Unit; the voices are those of comedians including Jason Manford (8 Out of 10 Cats) and Steve Edge (Phoenix Nights). Throughout the series various well-known people, including Stephen Fry, Richard E. Grant, Barbara Windsor and Sir Tom Jones, also lend their larynxes to the creatures featured.

Readers of a certain age will have fond memories of Animal Magic, the highlight of which was always Johnny Morris doing comedy voiceovers of zoo animals. I dimly remember his camel voice being hilarious to my six-year-old self. This new teatime series follows the same principle, but with the likes of Stephen Fry and Jason Manford putting funny voices on footage of animals in the wild. Fry plays a languorous panda reflecting on fame as he chews bamboo. There are dancing badgers and puffins singing Chas & Dave songs. There are ants trying to mug a beetle, a seal waking from a bad dream, and a crime-fighting hawk chasing down bad-guy lizards ("No-one's above the claw"). Some of it's silly, some of it's a bit lame, but parts are oddly brilliant. It's not necessarily the ideas that look good on paper that work best: a rodent repeatedly shouting "Alan!" is very funny, as is a bug hopelessly trying to climb a sand dune. It's simple, innocent fun that grown-ups and kids can laugh at together.

Any radio show that's just started its 51st series has to be considered a national treasure. Described as an antidote to panel games, Radio 4's I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue may be mainly cosy, middle class comedy fare, but it's impossible not to warm to the panel's total enthusiasm - including Barry Cryer and Victoria Wood - and eagerness with which the live audience boos and claps at every opportunity. Now using rotating chairmen, after the death of Humphrey Lyttelton last year, Stephen Fry sets the bar high here for those following, clearly relishing the banter he has with his quick-witted colleagues. Criticising such an institution may be tantamount to heresy, but adding 15 minutes to the 30 wouldn't do any harm.

Is bringing back I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue post-Humph a good idea? ISIHAC is my answer: the show has never held the place in my heart that it has in others'. Still, its return on Monday seemed fine enough, not particularly because of Stephen Fry, the host (Jack Dee and Rob Brydon are to step in later), but because of Victoria Wood. She is so clever with words - "Dictaphone: person on a mobile," she quipped - and so generous as a performer, arguing when she needed to, hanging back likewise. I hope she returns.

No Humph, no Samantha, but plenty of quality smut

After a decent interval following the death of Humphrey Lyttelton a year ago, I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue returned with a knowing wink and a helpless giggle. It's taken three men to replace the great man, and on Monday Stephen Fry was in the Humph seat. (He'll rotate with Rob Brydon and Jack Dee, though I'd like to have seen Bill Bailey given a shot, too.)

There was a fear that reconvening without the show's spiritual leader might be like The Beatles re-forming after John Lennon died. But though Fry was berated in some quarters after his debut, the essence of the complaints was that he's not Lyttelton. He probably can't play the trumpet, either.

The Lyttelton lacuna apart, it was business as usual, with the innuendo quotient maintained at its traditionally ferocious level. The lovely Samantha has been given a rest (for newcomers, she's the non-existent scorer) in favour of "the rippling Sven", who's had the builders round: "Whenever they ask for cheese and chutney, he always palms them off with relish."

Radio review: I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue

A radio institution returned last night minus a key ingredient: I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue (Radio 4) is now Humph-less. It was an interesting listen, working out how much of the show can still flourish with new, rotating hosts - Stephen Fry last night; Rob Brydon and Jack Dee to follow - and how much is lost. The good news is that the show is as funny as ever, and the pointless, unscored rounds remain very ticklish indeed. What's gone, inevitably, is a rich layer of impish spirit.

After two weeks of trailers few can be unaware of the return of the "antidote to panel games" with Stephen Fry in the chair. Recorded at Her Majesty's Theatre weeks ago, the audience roars approval for Fry's saucy delivery of Iain Pattinson's salty script. Sven replaces Samantha as the invisible scorer, offering more chances to spot the innuendo. Graeme Garden, Barry Cryer, Tim Brooke-Taylor and guest panellist Victoria Wood make merry with the customary multitude of entendres, double and single Colin Sell, as ever, is at the piano.

After the sad passing of our beloved Humph, ISIHAC could have quietly shuffled off into the sunset, but it returns with guest host (and former panel member) Stephen Fry. Regulars Graeme Garden, Barry Cryer and Tim Brooke-Taylor are joined by new girl Victoria Wood, who turned down the chance to appear on the show 19 years ago, but hopefully will make many more appearances in future.