Live At The Apollo

Radio Times review

As Jack Dee reminds us, he hosted the first two series of this show introducing all sorts of comedians who have now become household names. "I can't tell you how much I regret that... seeing people overtake you," he adds, shaking his head bitterly. He shouldn't worry. His patter is as sharp, self-deprecating and drily funny as ever.

Valiantly attempting to follow Dee's set is Seann Walsh, who riffs on the perils of binge-drinking, and Milton Jones, who wears such a loud shirt he actually doesn't need to say a word to get the audience falling about laughing. However, every single one of his jokes is terrific: his definition of Caucasian and his messy afternoons with ducks, pigs and other animals will make you guffaw - but never again will you end a phone call with "I'll let you go".

Eddie Izzard is your host tonight as the mainstream comedy slot returns. After his stints in Hollywood dramas, it's genuinely strange to see Izzard doing his uniquely bewildering surrealism again, even if you suspect that it might be a bit much for the Michael McIntyre crowd. More easily assimilated stuff is at hand with the reliably baleful Josh Widdicombe and show-closer Trevor Noah. Noah's bits on growing up in apartheid-era South Africa and on learning German from Hitler speeches are, as Izzard suggests, "annoyingly good".

Eddie Izzard saddles up as host for the first of a new season at the Apollo - and kicks off with a comedy canter around the Greek gods and the furtive nature of dressage. Tonight's bright new star is Trevor Noah - born in apartheid South Africa, the son of a black mother and a white father, his witty take on cultural identity stems from being 'born a crime'. He's going to be huge.

When the evening's host is as quick and brilliant as Eddie Izzard, it's easy to think of the guest acts as the lowlier partners. But while they lack Izzard's nimble physicality - put to use tonight in a routine about dressage horses burgling houses - Josh Widdicombe and Trevor Noah both have plenty of character.

Widdicombe has worked up a head of steaming dislike for cereal variety packs, Super Noodle serving suggestions and people who make their own jam, while Noah condenses his experience of growing up mixed-race in South Africa in what feels like a taster for his proper act. Apparently both parents had to disown him in public on occasion. Processing that has left him vulnerable to the seductive allure of American culture, and the challenges of ordering a sandwich in German.

Stand up and be counted: Eddie Izzard interview

As Live at the Apollo returns tonight for a new series, read Ginny Dougary's interview with host Eddie Izzard in which he talks about his ambitions to enter politics, learn more languages, run more marathons and start a family.

Live at the Apollo - A force for good or bad?

It has just been announced that a new six-part series of Live at the Apollo starts on BBC One in November. This has left me feeling conflicted. On the one hand I love the fact that stand-up gets more exposure on television. On the other hand I hate the fact that stand-up gets more exposure on television. Now that's what I call conflicted.

Host Greg Davies roams the Apollo like an angry giraffe, railing against the perils of being middle-aged, which include having an underpants emergency just before he was due to go on stage. There's a long, discursive rant about a hideous taxi journey with a cab driver, which involved an existential discussion about the nature of "pies", before things get quieter with charming guest Hal Cruttenden. He has a good riff about the similarities between Germany and Dr David Banner in The Incredible Hulk. The evening ends with Simon Evans, who makes jokes about hen parties and fat people.

Omid Djalili hosts tonight's comedy session, treading what he calls "the fine line between entertaining and mental illness". On the entertainment side of that line are his impressive mashup of West End musicals and his Tommy Cooper pastiche of Obama meeting former Egyptian president Mubarak.

He's followed by Reginald D Hunter with some political comedy and then Julian Clary, who does a startlingly short set - though perhaps not short enough for Olympic cycling champion Geraint Thomas, who looks very uneasy when called up on stage.

South London chancer Lee Nelson (the well wickid innit bruv creation of comic Simon Brodkin) takes no prisoners with his opening routine. The death of his grandad, dogging, his crush on the Little Mermaid - nothing is off-limits, and Lee is such a cheery, shouty, in-your-face caricature, he can get away with anything, more or less.

Tough act to follow? Not for Canadian one-liner merchant Stewart Francis, who won the prize for funniest joke at this year's Edinburgh fringe: "You know who really gives kids a bad name? Posh and Becks."