Russell Brand's Ponderland

It's been a terrible week for popular, wild-haired comedian Russell Brand. After he and Jonathan Ross left lewd messages on actor Andrew Sachs' voicemail during a Radio 2 show, more than 18,000 complaints pushed him into parting company with the BBC.

Inevitably, the tabloid furore over 'Sachsgate' boosted the return of Russell Brand's Ponderland to 1 million viewers for the start of its second series.

Besides a better set, the bedrock of Ponderland's format remained the same: Brand introduces a funny clip from the TV archives, the footage is played to a live studio audience, and Brand finally dissects the clip by spinning it into a meandering, surreal few minutes of iffy stand-up. Some of it works, most of it doesn't. I've always found Brand an odd TV presence (his shark's grin, his big hair, those tight trousers), and much prefer his anarchic, playful radio persona without that visual distraction. It's just an ironic pity radio gave him enough rope to hang himself with, isn't it.

The BBC has suspended all Russell Brand-related activities for the foreseeable future. Assuming your hunger for Brand hasn't been entirely assuaged lately, the sole remaining source is Russell Brand's Ponderland, in which his customary rants are structured around random snippets of old news footage on a weekly theme, which, last night, was pets.

I'd call myself an admirer of Brand, if at times a reluctant one, but I don't think this format suits him. Either the stories are too bland for his outrage (an elderly aristocrat who dyes his pigeons primary colours) or the outrage is ready-made (an American woman who had had an affair with her dog and was now eyeing up her pony). Interesting to note in the closing credits, though, that the production company that makes it is called Vanity, and its logo is a cartoon of a naked man standing over a mirror and playing with his willy. What you see is what you get.

After his inexplicably offensive radio broadcast, Russell Brand's Ponderland returned to show that the best of him is his surrealism and the worst is his sneering. In his autobiography and the interviews surrounding it he said that the proper butt of a comedian's jokes is himself. When you start laughing at other people's expense, he explained, you have to examine your motives. It sounded commendably idealistic at the time, but, boy, does it ring hollow now.

We didn't like Brand even before his stupidity cost a fine lady (the controller of Radio 2) her job by bragging about his sex life (who'd have him? not us - but lots of desperate wannabe girls, it seems). So when we say this programme is puerile, distasteful rubbish, it's not with a brainless Daily Mail-like chip on our shoulders.

Russell Brand is a highly original, attractive, instinctive comedian. In all seriousness, what else could he do in life? He is much safer making jokes than driving a bus.

The Times Review

In Ponderland Russell Brand proves how very funny he is. The idea is that he riffs on topics in that Brand kind of a way that makes no sense written down. His jokes are not quotable, not because they are profane, but because they are a stream of mucky consciousness and absurdity.

Guardian Review

It's not been the easiest week for the pseudo-piratical japester. And yet Ponderland offers Brand the chance to redeem himself, via the medium of Comedy. It's an opportunity to lay waste to the haters and prove his comic chops to those who doubt his talent/point in the wake of Sachsgate. And yet Ponderland is not funny. It's lazy and rambling, dull and annoying.