Closing in on the half-century. Ready for another look at five formidable formats, regularly interrupted by ill-considered meanders down distraction avenue? Hopefully the answer is yes, else you’re in the wrong place.

60: Tomorrow’s World

(Shown 1511 times, 1965-2003)

As the trope has it, a series inextricably linked to a nation of pop kids who just want TOTP to start already, Tomorrow’s World spent almost forty years tottering on the tightrope between reporting on scientific breakthroughs and entertaining a primetime BBC1 audience.

As seems to have been the style at the time, this long-running series hardly had a long gestation period, but rather was hasily conceived by producer Glyn Jones after being tasked with finding a way to fill a half-hour hole in BBC-1’s summer schedule. How hastily? Enough for the programme’s now-household name to have been quickly dreamt up by Jones and his wife the night before submitting the programme’s mission statement to the Radio Times:

From such beginnings (slightly tempting to use the word ‘haphazard’, but let’s face it, BBC producers of that era knew how to quickly weave an entire programme format from thin air), it would quickly go on to be a programme of national renown. Indeed, on top of everything else it achieved, Tomorrow’s World would go on to be the genesis of at least two great comedy series. Yes, the second series of Look Around You, but also mostly-forgotten ITV Sunday 10pm sitcom Not With A Bang, the opening scene of which saw Judith Hann wipe out 99.999% of the world’s population by accidentally releasing a hazardous hormone into the wild (“Bugger!”).

Such an accident was likely a nod to a particularly memorable aspect of Tomorrow’s World. As the programme went out live, it wasn’t uncommon that live demonstrations of exciting new technology (many items of which were likely still at a pre-release just-past-concept stage) went wrong. Such as in 1981,where a live demonstration of ‘Sid the snooker-playing robot’ went about as smoothly as a punch-drunk Sam Beckett Quantum-Leaping into the body of Steve Davis during a World Matchplay Final. But it wasn’t all quirky future-meme fodder – far from it. The Wayback Machine’s capture of the programme’s website from 1998 includes an illustrative synopsis of episodes throughout that decade: Picking one episode from November 1994, we see stories on a new breakthough in contraception, improvements to the flea breeding process, the development of heroin-eating bacteria, a new kind of telescope, and early mass market gas-powered motor vehicles.

Even on a technological level, TW offered Britain an early glance of items that would soon become part of many households, from mobile phones (albeit ones coming with a suitcase-sized battery) to the ‘Web, from PVRs to VR.

You might expect that, what with exciting ScienceFutures perpetually just around the corner, the series was one that could conceivably run forever. Never gonna run out of tomorrows. However, the fundamental irony of a programme focused on the world of tomorrow feeling quite old-fashioned finally dawned on Beeb bigwigs, and the series proper came to a close on 19 June 2002, with a special episode looking at the tech behind that year’s Spider-Man movie.

Following on from that finale, there was still time for a few more excursions for the famous brand. 14 August 2002 brought a Commonwealth Games Special of the series, looking at how science is furthering athletic endeavour. 25 September 2002 saw the ‘Tomorrow’s World Awards 2002’, the last of the programme’s annual ceremonies celebrating the best of the previous twelve months of innovation. June and July 2003 saw a short run series of Tomorrow’s World Roadshows, a final hurrah that allowed presenters Katie Knapman and Gareth Jones a look at some VR tennis tech and an update on the Beagle 2 Mars mission.

Ultimately, any news from the world of tomorrow would have to be served by other outlets. But, to mark the long-standard programme, let’s do a little experiment of our own, and research the long-held received wisdom (i.e. it got mentioned on Spitting Image at least once) that Tomorrow’s World Was Always On When You Were Waiting For Top Of The Pops To Start. Was that really the case? LET’S EXPLORE SOME DATA.

Okay, taking every episode of TW running on a weekday and broadcast between 6pm and 9pm (1,408 broadcasts in total), and then marking which programmes followed each episode in the schedule, here are the Top Ten contenders. In reverse order, natch.

10. The Likely Lads (1967), Russ Abbot (1990-91), Changing Rooms (1998-2002), Celebrity Ready Steady Cook (2000-02) (17 times each)

What better way to begin our too-much-infoburst with a four-way clamour for fourth place? So, TW was followed by The Likely Lads on Wednesday evenings in 1967, by repeats of series’ four and five of the Chester jester’s sketch comedy on Thursday evenings in 1990 and 1991, by those Changing Rooms on Wednesday evenings in 1999 (plus one-off episodes in 2001 and 2002) and by celebrity chef-offs on Wednesdays between 2000 and 2002.

9. Birds of a Feather (18 times, 1990-1998)

The second series of Sharon and Tracey’s misadventures followed TW on Thursday nights in 1990, a May 1992 repeat of series three opener “Keeping Up Appearances” and a few repeats of series five episodes in April 1998.

8. David Nixon on The Nixon Line (20 times, 1967-1968)

Presenter, magician and Vice President of The Magic Circle David Nixon hosted this programme perhaps now best known for introducing the nation to vociferous vulpes vulpes Basil Brush on Wednesday evenings between 1967 and 1968.

7. Mastermind (21 times, 1988)

The 1988 series of the gestapo-inspired quizzer teamed up with TW to make for an hour-long brain eisteddfod each Thursday night between January and June.

6. The Newcomers (44 times, 1968-1969)

New-build estate soap opera The Newcomers followed epsiodes of TW each Wednesday night between September 1968 and September 1969.

5. A Question of Sport (45 times, 1985-1999)

Imperial-phase Coleman-Beaumont-Hughes QoS followed episodes of TW on Thursdays between December 1985 and December 1987. Their paths would cross again in 1997 (for TW special ‘Megalab 97’), 1998 (for ‘Megalab 98’) and 1999 (for Megal… oh, ‘2000 and Beyond’).

4. Only Fools and Horses (48 times, 1987-1999)

With OFAH repeats peppering the primetime schedules in the late 80s and 90s, it’s no surprise that they appeared together quite often, on Thursdays in 1987, Wednesdays in 1992, Fridays in 1994-96 and Wednesdays between 1996 and 1999. Which also proves how often Tomorrow’s World was shunting around the schedules at the time.

3. The Virginian (51 times, 1968-1971)

Nearly at the top spot and yet to see anything disrupting our TOTP hypothesis, with James Drury’s tales from the frontier of the Great American West appearing after TW on Friday evenings between 1970 and 1971 (plus twice on Wednesdays in 1968). Note how I’m too classy to refer to the series as “The Virgin Ian”.

2. EastEnders (52 times, 1989-2000)

With ‘Stenders rampant throughout the schedules since 1985, it was always likely to crop up here, the only slight surprise being it took until 1989 for it to be scheduled after TW in the listings. Cutting to the raw numbers, EE followed TW on Tuesdays in 1989 (37 times), on Mondays in 1996 (nine times) and on Wednesdays in 1998 (six times). Plus, a special Olympic edition of Tomorrow’s World preceded EastEnders in June 2000.

1. Top of the Pops (477 times, 1965-2000)

Thus, the theory is proven to be true, with TOTP following Tomorrow’s World on far, far more occasions that any other programme. The two came together too many times to comfortably summarise here (I appreciate the even people who’ve come this far have a boredom threshold), but it’s basically lots and lots of weeks between 1972 and 1985, and once in 2000 (following one-off “Tomorrow’s World – the Live Event Special”). Almost always on a Thursday, but once on a Friday (that special in 2000 again). But it’s also worth noting that Top of the Pops wasn’t the programme that followed the first episode of Tomorrow’s World in 1965. That was the magnificently-titled Miss Interflora-G.P.O. 1965, where finalists Mrs Sylvia Williams, Miss Mary Grimmond and Mrs Valerie Bignell came under the gaze of judges Ted Moult, Drusilla Beyfus and Turlough O’Brien. The chairman of the whole affair was Kenneth Horne, and the prizes were presented by then-Postmaster General, The Rt Hon Anthony Wedgwood Benn M.P. I mean, no wonder beauty contests fell from favour. How could they ever hope to top all that?

59: The Money Programme

(Shown 1514 times, 1966-2011)

All together now…

There is nothing quite as wonderful as money.
There is nothing like a newly minted pound.
Everyone must hanker for the butchness of a banker
It’s accountancy that makes the world go round.

Eric Idle, The Money Song. But you already knew that.

I’m not going to lie, there have been a few times since I embarked on this endeavour where I wondered if it had really been a good idea. Oh, it was simple enough in principle – grab details of every television programme the BBC has ever broadcast on its main channels, all the way back to 1936, then pick out the programmes that appear most frequently from the 800,000+ records. Stupidly easy. Ahem. But then you get to the gritty bits. Entries on the list that had been OCR’d incorrectly (“Tom & Jeny”). Entries that were buried within But First This, Animal Zone or Daytime on Two strands. And when it comes to the next entry on the list, a programme that wasn’t billed under its own title for ten whole years.

Yep, since 2001 most episodes of The Money Programme were listed under the episode title, with ‘Money Programme’ mentioned in passing within the associated blurb. Quite why that was could be down to one of a few reasons. Having programmes stand out a bit more in the EPG, attracting the attention of people interested in the subject? Very likely. Trying to avoid association with the stuffy reputation The Money Programme had before then? Also likely. Whatever the reasoning, the end result was me going one-by-one through ten years of results for ‘Money Programme’ in the BBC Programme Index to make sure my list was accurate, because I just care too damn much.

That said, I can’t blame the producers for taking that approach. I doubt I would’ve even registered episodes of The Money Programme when scrolling through my PVR’s TV guide looking for something to watch, but billing them as The Money Game: Football’s Cash Crisis (19/11/2003), Dotcoms Bounce Back (23/02/2004), Microsoft’s Big Games Gamble (04/11/2005) or The Chewing Gum War (25/05/2007) was much more likely to prick my curiosity bubble.

This approach almost certainly helped The Money Programme survive for so long as a strand. Starting in April 1966, producer of The Money Programme Terry Hughes explained the show’s mission statement in the Radio Times.

Britain is like the son of a rich man who has inherited the family fortune and is spending the lot, said a Belgian banker who has extensive dealings in the City. With the recurrent tale of lost export orders, balance of payments trouble and pressure on the pound, people abroad now speak of ‘the English sickness’ which has dogged us since the war, rather than any spectacular business achievements. They must wonder what happened to the British flair for business.

This year is bound to see dramatic developments. With a debt of £899 million round our necks to be repaid in four years, and a current balance of payments deficit, we cannot escape the pressure to Improve our efficiency. Things have got to change. Industries have got to be reorganised. Traditional approaches to business problems have got to be questioned. The changes we can expect in this country will reach into the lives and prospects of many people.

The aircraft workers, for example, must see their working lives in a very different light now, and many in our more traditional industries are expecting change. Even without the pressure of our economic difficulties, the impact of automation, and the computer (felt increasingly in America) is bound to raise many painful issues for management, labour, and Government, in this country. We must prepare for a second industrial revolution.

The Money Programme will comment on the issues and broaden the whole field of discussion about our business and economic life.

The argument about how to handle the economy will grow louder with more and more suggestions on how to tackle our basic problems and with a greater readiness to look at the experience of other countries which have similar economic problems; Sweden and Holland on prices and incomes, Italy on industrial reconstruction.

Behind the argument about policy lies the complex business mechanism of the country. Many people want to know more about it. They want to know the background to some of the spectacular happenings they read of in the newspapers, why the pound comes under speculative pressure, how take-overs are mounted, how large companies are run, how fortunes are made, how pay claims are argued through.

The decisions taken in the board rooms of our large companies or In City offices are often as Important as political decisions. Some of our companies are enormously powerful. They have budgets larger than those of many of the countries in the United Nations. They have Planning Departments examining what the world will want in 1990 and complete Foreign Services for handling their diplomatic business.

Where the large corporation Invests its money, what kind of plant it builds, what kind of training it gives its employees, what products It designs and what influence it has on social amenities—these are important decisions.

The Money Programme will look at the way these companies are managed. It will also aim to broaden interest in business, in a year when it matters how well we manage our money.

Terry Hughes, The Money Programme, Radio Times (31 March 1966)

Hughes had been handed his mission in a memo from then-BBC Secretary Harman Grisewood, suggesting that it was “time we should do something about the economy for the people”. The suggestion didn’t go down too well with some executives at the Corporation, their reaction reportedly being that money was boring, and “the idea that there might be an audience for a regular TV programme on money struck producers as absurd.” But, as a time when the Pound was in freefall and national debt was ballooning, an attempt had to be made to explain the wider picture to the viewing public.

The initial reaction to the series was… less than enthusiastic, with around half-a-million viewers tuning in, and critics finding little positive to say about the series, save for the theme tune being quite nice (it having been borrowed from 1964 film ‘The Carpetbaggers‘). But, lack of popularity aside, it was certainly seen as An Important Programme, and as Britain’s economy continued to crash about the place like a drunk robot, interest in the series slowly began to grow.

By the 1980s, and the rise of Thatcherite economics, money finally became sexy. Heads of industry became nationally-known figures for (apparently) positive reasons, and every kid in the country excitedly filled in their Times Rich List Panini Sticker Book. Rightly or wrongly, interest in the business sector became much more commonplace, and by the early 1990s The Money Programme was joined in the BBC Two schedules by various other business-centred programmes (such as Troubleshooter and Doing It Right, and they’re just the ones fronted by Sir John Harvey-Jones, former Chairman of ICI).

By the noughties, the BBC had somehow even managed to make business-related TV cool enough for mainstream consumption, with both Dragon’s Den and The Apprentice making the transition from BBC Two to primetime BBC One. And so, perhaps as a result of business- and financial-based programming no longer needing to be ghettoised under the Money Programme umbrella, the strand was gradually phased out in the last few years of the 2000s.

So, in summary: if you want a programme about business, you’ve got both The Apprentice and Dragon’s Den. Just try to ignore that they’re basically talent contests for people in power suits.

58: Scooby-Doo

(Shown 1522 times, 1970-2012)

RICK: God, isn’t it all simply enchanting? It’s like one of those wonderful drawings by Roy Hill with lots of working-class people, thrashing about the place with pitchforks.

NEIL: Yeah! They look pretty angry, don’t they?

RICK: Just think. No nuclear power, no pollution, no electric cables ruining the landscape…

MIKE, NEIL, VYVYAN, RICK: [together] No telly!

NEIL: Oh, no! I’ll die if I miss Scooby Doo!

The Young Ones, “Time”, BBC2, 05/06/1984

Yeah, everyone already knows about Scooby-Doo, so here are a few things to note about the programme titles here: I’ve treated ‘Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!’ (CBS 1969–76), ‘The Scooby-Doo Show’, ‘Scooby-Doo and Scrappy-Doo’ (ABC 1976–91), ‘What’s New, Scooby-Doo?’ (WB 2002-08) and ‘Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated’ (Cartoon Network/Boomerang, 2010-) as being the same entity to reach this total, as they’re all basically the same, even if the latter years are a lot more self-aware than the earlier ones, and some episodes in the middle have that annoying sidekick.

I think it’s probably true to proclaim Scooby-Doo as one of the most instantly recognisable animated series of all time. So recognisable that several other programmes have happily thrown in little nods to it.

The rise of Scoob can be traced back to 1968, and a time when (and try your best to look surprised here) an American parent-run pressure group were complaining about supposedly violent fare children were seeing on Saturday morning TV. And so, something had to be done. At the time, many of the contentious toons were produced by TV animation powerhouse Hanna-Barbera. As a result, a range of popular Saturday morning cartoons were swiftly cancelled. Bye-bye Birdman and the Galaxy Trio, so long Young Samson and Goliath, g’bye Space Ghost and Dino Boy, farewell Frankenstein Jr and the Impossibles. All canned as a result of pressure from Peggy Charren’s pressure group. Hanna-Barbera’s cartoon production line suddenly found itself with little to do.

And so, in their place came a range of new programmes, several of which would go on to be tremendously popular with kids of a certain generation on both sides of the Atlantic. For starters, there was a pair of Wacky Races spin-off vehicles: Dastardly and Muttley in Their Flying Machines (no, not ‘Catch the Pigeon’) and The Perils of Penelope Pitstop. Alongside those came a wholly new property, which saw a group of relatable teens and their loyal hound travel the land to investigate a variety of spooky happenings. And that programme was, of course, to be called… The Mysteries Five. And that five were: Geoff, Mike, Kelly, Linda and W.W., plus their bongo-playing dog, ‘Too Much‘.

Not a joke. The initial premise was that this new programme would be heavily inspired by then-popular animated series The Archie Show, which wasn’t only a hit on television, in-show band ‘The Archies’ were a recording phenomenon in their own right. Their most popular song – Sugar, Sugar – went on to become a number one hit in the US (for four weeks) and the UK (for eight weeks). Who wouldn’t want a piece of that cross-platform pie?

The twist for The Mysteries Five would be that when not performing sell-out gigs at the hippest joints, they’d spend their downtime investigating ghostly mysteries. During development of the series by writers Joe Ruby and Ken Spears, a number of changes were made. At various points in the process, ‘Too Much’ was small and feisty, then a cowardly sheepdog before finally being changed into a Great Dane (Ruby and Spears having initially been wary that breed would be deemed too similar to comic-strip canine Marmaduke).

As development went on, inspiration for the series changed from The Archie Show to live-action proto-beatnik sitcom The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis (CBS, 1959-1963), which featured a quartet of teens. The mystery element wasn’t present in that show, but the characterisations were – Fred Jones based on clean-cut lead Dobie, Daphne Blake on attractive but calculating Thalia, Velma Dinkley on keen and nerdy Zelda, and Shaggy Rogers on the brilliantly-named Maynard G Kerbs, a jazz-loving beatnik who’d run a mile from hard work and punctuates every statement with at least three ‘likes’.

This was a combination nailed on to be a surefire smash, it just needed a better name. And so, CBS exec Fred Silverman came up with a new title… ‘Who’s S-S-Scared?‘. Which was deemed s-s-shite by CBS president Frank Stanton, who duly passed on the series.

After frantic re-tooling,the horror element of the series was toned down, the comedy aspect was ramped up, and the focus of the series shifted to the shaggy dropout and his panicky mutt. All that was left to be tidied up was the same of the series. Also, ‘Too Much’ really didn’t work as a name for what was now a central character. Legend has it that Silverman found inspiration for the new name from Frank Sinatra’s famed scattery “doo-be-doo-be-doo”.

Scooby-Doo stuck at the next development meeting, and it’s a name that certainly sticks to the memory. With such a memorable character name in place, the show was retitled Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!, and from that point an animated TV legend was born.

57: Westminster (aka Westminster Daily, Westminster On-Line)

(Shown 1567 times, 1970-2001)

Here’s one that seems unlikely to generate much excitement. But for much of it’s life, a programme that came with the unenviable challenge of not being able to show any footage of the thing they’re talking about.

Originally a weekly programme, when ‘Westminster’ launched in January 1970, it wasn’t just a programme designed to frustrate people trying to Google information about it fifty-two years later, it promised a review of the political week just gone. At that time, TV cameras were almost twenty years away from entering the House of Commons for the first time, and the prospect of dipping into a bespoke BBC Parliament channel would be the fever dream of a madman. So, here was a round-up where events of each day’s business could be discussed, audio could be played of discussions in the Commons chamber (along with a stock slide of the Parliament building and an inset box of the relevant MP), and later offering viewers a chance to quiz any MPs offering themselves up to public scrutiny.

Despite those limitations, it was a programme that would run and run. And yet seems to have left very little footprint on the internet. The original incarnation of Westminster ran until July 1979 (with BBC Political Editor David Holmes at the helm), but political programming under the same name would return to BBC2 in November 1989. Now going out most weekday mornings at 08:15, it still provided a summary of the previous day’s debates, but was now able to provide actual video footage of those debates, with cameras finally permitted in both chambers of Parliament. That’s not to be confused with the afternoon programme ‘Westminster Live’, which provided live coverage of the Commons.

It also doesn’t help that, at least as far the Radio Times were concerned, the programme didn’t even have a consistent title. From that 1989 relaunch all the way up to 12 November 1993, it went by the title of ‘Westminster’. The following week, it started being billed as ‘Westminster Daily’, right up to 4 November 1994. A few months later, it was back – in the same 08:15 slot, but now billed as ‘Westminster On-Line’ (ooh, modern).

On a couple occasions in 1992, the show was referred to under the curious-sounding moniker ‘Sam Westminster’.

What could that be? The name of the reporter giving the Parliamentary update, in a staggering display of nominative determinism? Maybe a politically-themed spin-off of Fireman Sam? Only one way to find out. To the newspaper archives!

Oh, okay. That makes more sense. Anyway, the ‘On-Line’ suffix lasted until July 1995, after which the programme title ‘Westminster’ was adopted for the afternoon slot, covering the current day’s events as they happened rather than those of the previous one. So, basically the same thing the previously-titled ‘Westminster Live’ (which I’m not counting in this entry) was doing, just to make this a bit more confusing.

By February 2000, it rebranded again – this time back to Westminster Live, but with the original name making the occasional cameo in Radio Times listings (presumably in error, rather than a title change reflected on-screen, but I’m including those in the total, so there). On 19 December 2002, the ‘Westminster [&whatever]’ title format was rolled out for the last time, Zeinab Badawi offering a final ten-minute report from Parliament before a repeat of Yes, Minister (Series 3 Episode 5: ‘The Bed of Nails’, if you’re wondering).

From that point on, ‘The Daily Politics’ seized BBC2’s political baton, and run with it. But more about that programme later. Possibly. (Okay, definitely.)

Trying to find any footage of the programme itself on YouTube – a real challenge given YouTube’s infuriating habit of returning a bunch of results you didn’t ask for, coupled with the vagueness of the programme title – results in little more than a second-long glimpse of Zeinab Badawi at the end of a continuity video posted onto YouTube Shorts.

For the record, I’ve combined results for these three programme titles as there’s a clear lineage between them. If you don’t like it, well, why not write to your MP?

56: Have I Got News for You

(Shown 1578 times, 1990-2021)

There’s a case to be made for claiming Have I Got News For You is Britain’s answer to The Simpsons. Both have been putting out new episodes for more than thirty years, both were a definite fresh breath of comedic air when they first arrived, both hit their imperial phase after a few years on-air, during that 1992-97 peak period phrases from each became part of the public lexicon (with ‘…allegedly!’ rivalling ‘…not!’ as the suffix of choice for people who aren’t as funny or clever as they think they are). And indeed, while each once felt cutting-edge and new, they’ve since become part of our TV wallpaper – not truly objectionably bad in their own right, but something that you might as well watch and enjoy seeing as it’s there.

Despite it now being an immovable part of our national TV furniture (yes, I know I just said it was wallpaper, but shush), it once seemed so young, so fresh, so cool. That Paul Merton from Whose Line Is It Anyway?, that Angus Deayton from KYTV, and that Ian Hislop from the writing credits on Carrott’s Lib, Three of a Kind and Comic Asides pilot ‘The Stone Age’.

Originally piloted as John Lloyd’s Newsround, it’s probably for the best that the storied producer stepped aside from hosting duties to make way for the almost dangerously wry Deayton. And so, in a set that now looks claustrophobically close, Have I Got News For You thundered onto our screens at 10pm on Friday 28 September 1990. The main competition in that slot at the time was The Golden Girls on C4, and the Florida quartet initially pummelled the upstart panel show in the ratings, 2.79m to 1.88m.

However, by the end of that first series in November, things were very different. And by ‘very’, I mean ‘not’, with HIGNFY slipping to 1.76m viewers to the Golden Girls’ rising 2.90m.

When it came to the second series of the nascent news quiz (billed in the ever on-the-ball Daily Mirror as “a new TV version of Radio Four’s News Quiz” despite it no longer being new, nor an actual remake of the radio property), the competition on the fourth channel was a little less severe: Friends-before-Friends (but with more swearing and nudity) HBO sitcom Dream On, which never really found an audience in the UK. As a result, an increased 2.23m tuned in to see Angus, Paul and Ian (plus guest panellists Sandi Toksvig and David Thomas) for that opening episode of the series, while Dream On managed to be the only C4 Friday night show to fall outside the channel’s Top 30 for the week.

By the end of that second run, audiences had ballooned to an impressive 4.29m viewers, meaning HIGNFY was now BBC2’s most popular comedy show.

From that point on, popularity of the series only increased, with viewing figures north of eight million on several occasions. Even today, when viewing figures are much more modest and you’d expect the programme (having recently wrapped series 63) to feel much less of a draw, HIGNFY still performs incredibly well – the closing episode of the sixty-third series in May 2022 drew 4.1m viewers (going by BARB data), behind only Silent Witness, a documentary about The Queen and The Great British Sewing Bee as far as BBC programmes go for that week.

But anyway, you all already know about HIGNFY since that point (quick recap: Tub of Lard, Sperm of the Devil, Savile, the spoof-taken-for-real Savile transcript, move to BBC1, Angus sacked, stunt guest hosts, helping to raise the profile of a human cartoon who somehow became PM, then failing to learn from that and start inviting Rees-Mogg onto the programme), so what other info can we wring out of it? How about a Guests With The Longest Periods of HIGNFY Relevance Top Ten? That is to say, people who’ve had the longest spell between their first and most recent appearances in the programme. Figures correct as of the last complete series in Spring 2022.

10. Ken Livingstone (12 appearances 02/11/1990-12/04/2013, 8197 days)

Then still a serving MP, once-cuddly Ken first appeared on Paul’s team opposite Ian and Rory McGrath in the programme’s sixth ever episode. He last appeared in series 45, under the umpireship of guest host Brian Blessed, this time on Ian’s team and opposite Paul and Bridget Christie. Probably won’t be back again any time soon, given he’s a bit too ‘divisive’ these days.

9. Bill Bailey (8 appearances 30/04/1999-29/10/2021, 8218 days)

First appearing in the show’s late-BBC2 era (and presumably then still donning his Bastard Bunny long-sleeve t-shirt) helping Paul to a 16-11 defeat against Ian and Trevor Phillips. Last seen in the show’s 62nd series, this time in the guest host chair, stewarding guest panellists Fin Taylor and Dawn Butler MP.

8. Maureen Lipman (5 appearances 17/12/1993-11/11/2016, 8365 days)

Beattie herself first appeared in series six, joining Ian as they took on Paul and Lesley Abdela (the early years of the programme having no qualms about having two female panellists). She would reappear most recently in series 52, under guest host Charlie Brooker and facing opponents/rhyming couplet Paul and Rich Hall.

7. Germaine Greer (10 appearances 16/11/1990-28/11/2014, 8778 days)

Germaine “Fuck You Shoes” Greer first appeared in the final episode of the first series, on Ian’s team versus Paul and late MP Tony Banks. Greer most recently participated in 2014’s 48th series, facing Ian and Josh Widdicombe under the watchful eye of regular guest host Xander Armstrong.

6. Janet Street-Porter (15 appearances 26/04/1996-29/05/2020, 8799 days)

80s impersonator go-to Street-Porter has been a regular participant over the years, first appearing in the Paul-hiatus 11th series alongside guest captain Eddie Izzard as they took on Ian and much-missed Dermot Morgan. More recently, she appeared in the lockdowntastic 59th series, Zooming into an episode along with Fin Taylor and host Martin Clunes. (And also in the first episode of the current series, but we’re not counting that here.)

5. Frank Skinner (12 appearances 06/11/1992-01/06/2018, 9338 days)

The Midlands mirth merchant probably made a bit of HIGNFY history in 1992’s fourth series, when he became the first guest to appear twice within one series, the first of which saw him appear opposite Jerry Hayes MP. More recently, Frank returned to the show in 2018, where he hosted the finale of series 55, with guests Lucy Prebble and Henning Wehn.

4. Martin Clunes (19 appearances 28/10/1994-17/12/2021, 9912 days)

No surprise to see the always-welcome Clunes here, who despite primarily being an actor has always swung effortlessly into the topical comedy panel jungle. First appearing in series eight, Clunes first appeared against stunt-guest James Pickles. Most recently Clunes appeared in the guest host hotseat, invigilating the antics of guests Jon Richardson and Kirsty Wark.

3. Jack Dee (17 appearances 13/05/1994-15/04/2022, 10,199 days)

Crumpled curmudgeon Dee first appeared in series seven of the show, facing off against Paul and Tony “Fridge Yes Skateboard No” Hawks. His most recent reappearance came as guest host in 2022’s sixty-third series, refereeing comic Nabil Abdulrashid and Professor Hannah Fry.

2. Jo Brand (31 appearances 04/12/1992-29/04/2022, 10,738 days)

A name you might well have expected to see in the top spot, Jo Brand first appeared in series four, helping Ian to victory over Paul and Neil Kinnock. Now one of the go-to guest hosts, Brand was seen most recently in April 2022, keeping a watchful eye on columnist Camilla Long and comedian Susie McCabe.

1. Joan Bakewell (6 appearances 01/05/1992-27/05/2022, 10,983 days)

Yeah, here’s a name you may not have expected to see here. Broadcaster, columnist, Governor & Chair of the BFI and future Baroness Bakewell first appeared in 1992, opposite stand-up Donna McPhail. While her appearances on the series would only be sporadic over the years, Bakewell most recently reappeared in the most recent episode under consideration here, the closing episode of series 63, along with host Jon Richardson and fellow guest Phil Wang.

Jeepers, that was a long one. Tune in next time to see if I can reach the halfway point of the hundred before the BBC’s Actual 100th Anniversary on 18 October.

Here’s the next bit. I appreciate it’s been a while. Back when the last update came out, we had a different Prime Minister, a different Monarch. and a different Chelsea manager. So, that’s enough pre-ambling, on with the list. And it only took one Friday night spent looking through 1920s radio listings to see which region had the first programme about farming.

65: Top Gear

(Shown 1396 times, 1978-2021)

Well, here’s a thing. Something that started out as a regional programme in the Midlands, which would go on to become the most-watched motoring programme [theatrical voice] In The World.

Indeed, one of the most profitable programmes in the BBC’s history started out as a monthly programme restricted to the BBC Midlands region. Producer Derek Smith suggested one of the region’s weekly opt-outs could be used for a look at subjects such as family cars, road safety and the like. It’s a format that Thames has been using for a while, with ‘Drive-In’ first roaring out of London’s ITV outpost in 1974, and it was a topic also likely of interest to BBC viewers. And so, from 22 April 1977, nine monthly episodes of Top Gear were transmitted, to the delight of any motoring enthusiasts not still stuck in traffic on the M6.

By 1978, national BBC bigwigs had been sniffing around the format, and a full ten-episode series of Top Gear was set to roar into life on BBC-2 from July. Main presenters Angela Rippon and Tom Coyne were retained from the BBC Midlands series, with Barrie Gill also added to the presenting team. Despite the petrol-tinged titillation you might expect from a motorsports commentator joining the line-up, topics were largely low-octane throughout the first series. Unless that is holiday driving, MOT tests, traffic jams, treatment of rust or tachographs are enough to send your particular pulse racing.

With the format proving a sizeable hit amongst drivers, the number of episodes per year accelerated from 1980, with two full series hitting the schedules per year (one in spring, one in autumn). The team of presenters was freshened up regularly, with imperial phase Noel Edmonds hosting a couple of series, along with William Woollard of Tomorrow’s World, while Chris Goffey and Sue Baker defected from Gears’ rival programme at Thames. That was before a pair of presenters who’d become more closely associated with the programme joined towards the end of the decade – former F1 driver Tiff Needell and motoring journalist Jeremy Clarkson. By this point, the remit of the show was less Watchdog For Cars and more about how cool and awesome cars could be. And it was an approach that worked – Top Gear was regularly top of the BARB ratings for the channel, and comfortably so.

But, nothing lasts forever, and by the late 90s the audience figures were beginning to slip. The Beeb decided to wait before deciding whether to recommission the programme, and as a result, several members of the presenting team scarpered off to Channel Five’s new show Fifth Gear.

And that was it for Top Gear, or at least Top Gear V1. Because – as highlighted in the RT listing for the last episode of ‘old’ Top Gear (Mon 04/02/02), “Top Gear is scheduled to start a new series later this year.” And indeed it was, with Clarkson and Hammond and, erm, Dawe (later replaced by May), and in the new guise of Jackass With Cars it would go on to conquer the world.

All this has been written about much more comprehensively (and competently) over on the Creamguide email, so instead of going into the latter history of Top Gear, I’m going to present a Compleat List of BBC2 9pm Comedy Shows That Meant You Saw The Last Bit of Top Gear Even If You Didn’t Want To. All on Thursdays unless stated otherwise. Hey, not really relevant, but it least it’s an honest reflection of what Top Gear meant to me.

• Tuesdays 09/09/80 – 21/10/80: Butterflies
• Tuesdays 21/09/82 – 12/10/82: The Kenny Everett Television Show
• Wednesdays 03/11/82, 16/03/83: MASH
• Tuesdays 17/09/85 – 22/10/85: Lame Ducks
• 15/10/87 – 19/11/87: Alas Smith & Jones
• 13/10/88 – 17/11/88: Alexei Sayle’s Stuff
• 14/09/89 – 12/10/89: Police Squad!
• 19/10/89 – 23/11/89: Alexei Sayle’s Stuff
• 27/09/90 – 01/11/90: Rab C Nesbitt
• 08/11/90 – 29/11/90: Harry Enfield’s Television Programme
• 28/02/91 – 21/03/91: Red Dwarf
• 28/03/91 – 18/04/91: Up Pompeii!
• 03/10/91 – 07/11/91: Alexei Sayle’s Stuff
• 14/11/91 – 19/12/91 (Except 05/12/91): Murder Most Horrid
• 27/02/92 – 26/03/92: Red Dwarf
• 02/04/92 – 07/05/92: Harry Enfield’s Television Programme
• 01/10/92 – 29/10/92: Bottom
• 05/11/92: Blackadder Goes Forth
• 12/11/92 – 17/12/92: Absolutely Fabulous
• 18/02/93 – 01/04/93: French and Saunders
• 22/04/93 – 10/06/93: The Comic Strip Presents….
• 07/10/93 – 11/11/93: Red Dwarf
• 03/03/94 – 07/04/94: Murder Most Horrid
• 14/04/94: Reeves and Mortimer’s Shooting Stars
• 05/05/94 – 12/05/94: Joking Apart
• 17/09/94: Knowing Me, Knowing You… with Alan Partridge
• 23/02/95 – 06/04/95: The Glam Metal Detectives
• 20/04/95, 27/04/95: Steptoe and Son
• 04/05/95: The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin
• 16/11/95 – 21/12/95: The Ghostbusters of East Finchley
• 11/04/96 and 02/01/97: Sykes
• 24/10/96 – 27/03/97: Third Rock from the Sun
• 08/05/97, 15/05/97: Absolutely Fabulous
• 04/09/97 – 18/12/97: Third Rock from the Sun
• 26/03/98, 02/04/98: Steptoe and Son
• 23/07/98 – 03/09/98: The Simpsons
• 20/08/98 & 17/09/98 – 17/12/98: Third Rock from the Sun
• 18/03/99 – 01/04/99: Red Dwarf
• 15/04/99: Goodness Gracious Me
• 09/09/99 – 14/10/99: Red Dwarf
• 02/03/00: Not the Nine O’Clock News
• 30/03/00: Dad’s Army
• 13/04/00: Harry Enfield and Chums
• 25/05/00: Steptoe and Son
• 12/10/00: Harry Enfield and Chums
• 28/06/01, 05/07/01: Dad’s Army
• 19/07/01: Morecambe and Wise
• 10/12/01, 17/12/01: The Kumars at No 42
• 04/02/02: Never Mind the Buzzcocks
• 02/01/05 – 30/01/05: Never Mind the Buzzcocks
• 30/12/07: Extras
• 17/07/08 & 31/07/08: Mock the Week
• Sunday 30/12/08: Shooting Stars: the Inside Story
• Sunday 27/12/09: Steve Coogan – Inside Story
• Monday 28/12/09: Not Again: the Not the Nine O’Clock News Story
• 13/07/10 – 03/08/10: That Mitchell and Webb Look
• Sunday 11/05/14: The Comedy Vaults: BBC2’s Hidden Treasures
• Sunday 25/05/14: Harry and Paul’s Story of the Twos
• Wednesday 30/12/15: Charlie Brooker’s 2015 Wipe
• Sunday 16/06/19, 23/06/19: The Ranganation

Yes, that was a long list. No, I didn’t realise how many there would be until I generated the list. But at least I didn’t mention steak, chips or fisticuffs.

Here’s the broadcast history, which DOES NOT include:Top Gear Rally Report, Top Gear Motorsport and stuff like Top Gear of the Pops. Nor does it include the Midlands-only series of Top Gear. Just imagine if the Dave channel was included in these figures, eh?

=63: Antiques Road Trip

(Shown 1449 times, 2010-2021)

Despite a programme name that makes it sound like an Aldi version of Antiques Roadshow, Antiques Road Trip is a very different proposition. Well, not that different. It’s still about antiques. But anyway.

The programme pits a pair of antique experts against each other, each armed with a budget of £200. The money is used to purchase antiques and collectibles, which are subsequently sold at auction. After each auction, the amount in each expert’s kitty (after costs) becomes their budget for the next leg of the titular trip. The winner is the expert who makes the greater profit over five legs, with any remaining cash donated to Children in Need.

Each daily programme covers a single leg of a ‘match’, offering a compelling reason for viewers to return each day. And each week, the ‘trip’ aspect of the programme involves the experts zooming between auctions in a different classic car. And that’s the format.

As you may have gleaned from the write-up on other, similar programmes in the list, I’m not going to go all-in on this show. After all, I’ve a history of Farming programmes to get to. But I will say one thing: one thing that has always bugged me about the whole “brilliant antique experts pick up amazing bargains from antique shops” premise.

The owners of antique shops don’t just sit there with a shop full of gems they somehow fail to understand the true value of. Nor do they let any Tom, Dick or Tarquin wander in and start haggling. But they are canny enough to know that giving Johnny TV Expert a twenty quid discount on a Victorian teapot will result in their shop making it into the edit of a popular daytime programme on BBC1, thereby generating a spot of advertising much more valuable than a tatty teapot. Expert gets a bargain that’ll sell for a profit, shop owner gets increased trade, a forty-five minute slot is filled in the daytime schedule. Everyone wins.

Well, everyone except me. I’m just waiting for Pointless to start.

=63: The Natural World

(Shown 1449 times, 1983-2021)

While the BBC is rightly lauded for big-name natural history documentaries like Planet Earth, Blue Planet or Life in Cold Blood, long-running nature strand The Natural World (since 2003, just ‘Natural World’) has long been the less-glamorous midfield workhorse putting in the hard yards. Attracting far fewer column inches than those stablemates of global renown, it’s nonetheless been there almost forty years, bringing an entire global ecosystem to the homes of BBC2 viewers.

The roots of The Natural World actually belong to a different programme. The World About Us (3 December 1967 to 20 July 1986) was created by David Attenborough to make the most of the colour TV sets starting to trickle into British homes, offering sights from all around the world in full living colour. The series would go on to clock up 714 broadcasts on the second channel (and 121st place in the big list, if you’re wondering), and almost as many awards from television societies around the world.

That said, despite being commissioned by (then controller of Two) David Attenborough, the remit for World About Us needed to extend beyond just the world of wildlife, such was the paucity of colour wildlife film available for the new medium. As a result, the remit of the series was expanded to cover geography and anthropology as much as natural history. By 1983, there were enough film-makers capturing wildlife footage in full colour to warrant a tighter remit, and a rebrand to suit.

In contrast to World About Us, The Natural World seems to have initially enjoyed a relatively low status within the BBC. In trying to find out a little more about the genesis of the programme, I looked at BBC Yearbooks from 1983 onwards, and the first reference I can find to the programme comes in the BBC Yearbook for 1985. Even then it’s only a passing reference to George Fenton’s music for the series picking up a Bafta. Yeah, just a Bafta, barely worth writing about, eh?

The BBC’s coquettish attitude to the programme early on certainly didn’t hinder its budget, thankfully. It being a format that could easily be sold to other TV markets, along with it being part of co-production partnership with American broadcaster WNET afforded the series a generous budget, and a prime spot on PBS stations on the other side of the Atlantic.

It also didn’t hurt that a plethora of famous voice-owners lent their vocal chords to narration duties. While – as you’d expect – Sir David Attenborough lent his voice to a fair number or episodes, in those early years it was Barry Paine who took to the microphone most often. As years went on, narration duty took in the likes of (deep breath) Robert Powell, Laurie Emberson, Jane Goodall (in an episode looking at her work with chimpanzees), Andrew Sachs, Hywel Bennett, Siân Phillips, Libby Purves, Tom Conti, Judi Dench, Sally Magnusson, Brian Blessed, Anthony Hopkins, Tony Robinson, Rula Lenska, Tim Pigott-Smith, Robert Lindsay, Ian McShane, John Hurt, Geraldine James, Joss Ackland, Des Lynam, Ian Holm, Bernard Cribbins, Patricia Routledge, Nigel Hawthorne, Tom Baker, Stephen Fry, Eleanor Bron, Bill Oddie, Miranda Richardson, Meera Syal, Richard Briers, Charles Dance, Sanjeev Bhaskar, Charlotte Rampling, John Peel, Steven Berkoff, Lenny Henry, Olivia Colman and Adrian Edmondson.

With a reputation as the planet’s go-to broadcaster for high-quality natural history films, it’s little surprise so much talent could be coaxed into working on the series, but the narrator rarely took top billing in a series where wildlife always took centre stage.

62: Diagnosis Murder

(Shown 1472 times, 1993-2011)

Brought to you by the content warning message

Yes, I am very glad I’d extracted info from all the broadcast years before the Genome redesign and addition of ‘offensive content’ autofilter warnings. Anyway, on with American action-comedy-mystery-medical crime drama Diagnosis Murder, starring D*** Van D***. One day I’ll try and work out a list of most-censored programme listings on the BBC Programme Index.

Anyway, A Diagnosis of Murder, to use the title of the TVM-cum-pilot episode. A kind-of spin-off of US crime series Jake and the Fatman (for which season 4 episode 19 served as a backdoor pilot for Diag Murder), the show featured medical doctor Mark Sloan (played by D-word Van D-word) as he solved crimes in all the bountiful spare time medical doctors have. Aided by son and sidekick Detective Steve Sloan (played by real-life son Barry Van Dyke), the pair frequently team up to solve hospital-adjacent crimes.

Despite the initial series of Diag Murder arriving on CBS in October 1993, it took until 1999 for it to debut on the BBC. For most of the 90s, any viewers seeking some hot Van Dyke action were restricted to numerous airings of the three TV movie outings for Dr Mark Sloan. The first of these came in a prime post-Christmas slot, with original pilot Diagnosis of Murder going out (with a billing of “a quirky murder investigation from the producers of Perry Mason”) in an 8:30pm slot on BBC1, three days into 1993. This was positioned in that day’s schedule at a point where a quirky murder investigation would have been a welcome relief for anyone who’d just seen the preceding programme: a surprising repeat of the darkest ever episode of Last Of The Summer Wine*.

(*Said ‘episode’ was actually a now-infamous feature-length 1983 Christmas special of the series, called ‘Getting Sam Home’. The plot involved Foggy, Compo and Clegg visiting their pal Sam in hospital, and agreeing to his request that he wants to spend one last night with his fancy piece, “Lily-Bless-Her”. The unseen exertions at Lily’s are too much for Sid’s ticker, meaning it’s up to our intrepid trio to get Sam’s corpse (yep, corpse) back home so that his wife Sybil thinks he died in his own bed. Shown at 7pm! Even the original broadcast was mostly post-watershed. If you were previously unaware of that episode and think I’ve made all that up, I honestly didn’t. It was even released as a rental VHS tape, and I know that because I got my mum to rent it when I was nine years old, such was my love of Last of the Summer Wine. All shot on film, as was the style at the time, which added an extra layer of grimness to it. I really enjoyed it, too. Probably the closest I ever got to a video nasty. BONUS FACT: it was the first BBC sitcom to earn a 90-minute Christmas special episode. Anyway, we’re not here for that.)

So, back to Dr Mark Sloan. As I say, by the time the BBC started showing the series proper, it was well into its seventh season in the USA. That’s usually a sign something has been picked up on the cheap and is being used as schedule-grout until something better comes along, but it proved to be very popular with the daytime audience. A bit more comic than many of its contemporary crime shows, BBC1 schedules for the show’s original broadcasts put it in good company – nestled between the afternoon showing of Neighbours and repeats of To The Manor Born, it serving as a suitably meaty centre in a whimsical TV sandwich. Ten years later, it was still a fixture in a daytime BBC1 line-up, offering a double dose of medical mayhem (alongside Doctors) amongst the forest of Heir Hunters/Homes Under the Hammer/To Buy or Not to Buy/Trash to Cash/Cash in the Attic-style shows.

Clearly, with the BBC1 schedule gorging itself on property and antique programmes, there was no longer any room for a light-hearted hospital-based detective series. And so, from 12 October 2009, Diagnosis Murder moved to BBC2, where it was shown alongside [checks Genome] oh. Property series Open House and best-of repeats of Flog It. Bloody hell, bring back Open Air already. And (save for a brief return to BBC1 in 2010), the second channel was where Diagnosis Murder saw out its days at the Beeb. A flickering lighthouse against the tsunami of property and antique shows.

61: Farming

(Shown 1488 times, 1957-1988)

Even accounting for the early years of television roll-out concentrating on viewers in The South, it took a surprisingly long time for the medium to provide any programming for those living off the land. The assumption seems to have been radio programming provided all the information farmers might need (and indeed, not everything needs to translate to television – there’s a reason The Shipping Forecast has never transferred to the small screen). Radio had been serving the agricultural community since January 1924, with the first edition of Farmer’s Corner broadcast on 5NO Newcastle. That was followed by similar programmes serving farmers broadcast from Glasgow, Manchester and Cardiff.

From September 1937, wireless receivers all around the nation were able to receive the latest agricultural goings-on, with ‘Farming Today’ airing on the National Programme. No longer would farmers finding themselves in the wrong region miss out on advice from W. S. Mansfield, Manager of the Cambridge University Farm, on topics such as grassland improvement, High versus Low Farming, or alternate husbandry (saucy).

Meanwhile, any glances the nascent BBC Television Service were giving at farmers seemed to have an aim of extracting information from them, to provide knowledge and background for townsfolk with television receivers. 1 February 1939 saw the first episode of ‘This Month on the Farm’ (renamed ‘Down on the Farm’ thereafter), a monthly series where “A. G. Street visits Bulls Cross Farm and surveys with the farmer the work to be done”, which ran until August of that year. All very commendable, but not doing much to serve the rural community itself.

By contrast, any programming actually aimed at the farming community failed to happen until 31 March 1950, when an entire hour of programming for farmers – helpfully titled ‘For Farmers’ – was broadcast. Split into three twenty-minute modules on Fruit, Poultry and Pigs, it seemed things were changing when it came to television serving the needs of farmers.

But – as far as I can find – that was it for the ‘For Farmers’ strand. In the same slot the following week was a similar hour aimed at gardeners, and subsequent weeks saw the 3pm slot reserved for children’s programming. Any similar hopes and dreams were subsequently dashed in February 1951, when a fifteen-minute programme called ‘Farming Review’ aired, offering a look at farm life rather than anything serving the needs of farmers. And again, this was merely a one-off short film, rather than a full series.

It took until 4 October 1957 before anything substantial appeared to serve the farming community.

At last, “a new series of weekly agricultural magazines for those who live by the land”, introduced by farmer, agricultural journalist and broadcaster John Cherrington. The first edition included the current Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food, Derick Heathcoat Amory MP, who provided an outlook for British farming, and a Q&A session on the same with Sir James Turner and EG Gooch (CBE, MP). There was also the promise of a film from the International Potato Harvester Trials, and a visit to the Earl of Bradford at his Tong Norton Farm within his Staffordshire estate.

Heady stuff, and best of all it was followed in the schedule by the magnificently-named ‘The Weather Situation for Farmers and Growers’. Not a bad attempt at making up for lost time, especially given from that point on, Christmas week and special occasions aside, the weekly Farming round-up (not forgetting ‘The Weather Situation’) would be a Sunday lunchtime fixture for just over the next thirty years.

In July 1988, Les Cottington and Philip Wrixon presented the final edition of the programme (the RT listing for that finale suggests I’m missing some episodes from the total I’ve totted here, but on closer inspection it seems they went out under the title ‘Farm Forum‘ which I’ve decided DOES NOT COUNT). Of course, that wasn’t the end of early-afternoon countryside coverage – the final episode included a preview of the programme that would be picking up the Farming mantle, a little series called Country File. More on that… later?

Okay, that’ll do. Next update sooner than you might expect (because I’ve already written 60% of it, thanks to me adding a further 12,133 individual listings from Daytime on Two to the database like an idiot who doesn’t know when to stop making his own life more difficult). I refuse to ever learn.

Well, damn.

As you may well be aware, I recently embarked on a foolhardy quest to tot up the hundred programmes shown most often on BBCs One, Two and Television Service since it launched in 1936. Taking data from the BBC’s Genome Project (now known as the BBC Programme Index), I scoured through 855,361 individual programme listings to determine which ones have appeared most frequently on Britain’s television screens.

And then… it soon became clear that some programmes were missing from the list. While most programmes in the Programme Index are listed nice and neatly, like this:

Quite a lot are listed like this, with individual programmes appearing within what would normally be a programme description.

This clearly Would Not Do. Capturing all this missing info would be even trickier than the initial data-scrape. The syntax used for each listing-within-a-listing varies quite wildly, an inconsistent method is used to display time (sometimes a show is on at ‘9.05’, sometimes it’s ‘9.5’, sometimes due to OCR quirks it’s ‘g-o5’), often there’s no gap between the programme title and the episode description, it’s all a bit of a mess.

Anyway, I’ve gone and snuffled out an additional 27,002 programme listings (mostly from the 1980s and 1990s), removed a few duplicates that had crept in elsewhere, tidied up a few other bits, dug a bit deeper into listings of Laurel and Hardy films (adding a bunch from the 1940s to the 2010s not specifically billed as L&H), and filled in a number of days wholly missing from the Programme Index (with huge thanks to Steve at The Radio Times archive).

In short, the whole list now encompasses a total of 879,344 programmes, and the list thus far now looks like this:

• =99: Five to Eleven (Shown 883 times, 1986-1990)
• =99: The Flintstones (883 times, 1985-2010)
• 98: Saturday Kitchen (890 times, 2001-2021)
• 97: Final Score (897 times, 1971-2021)
• 96: Postman Pat (911 times, 1981-2012)
• 95: Z Cars (920 times, 1962-1998)
• 94: Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is (933 times, 2008-2021)
• 93: Sportsnight (934 times, 1968-1997)
• 92: Rugby Special (976 times, 1966-2005)
• 91: For the Children (983 times, 1937-1952)
• 90: Strictly – It Takes Two (1006 times, 2004-2021)
• =87: QI (1010 times, 2003-2021)
• =87: Nai Zindagi – Naya Jeevan (1010 times, 1968-1982)
• =87: The Simpsons (1010 times, 1996-2004)
• 86: ChuckleVision (1055 times, 1987-2012)
• =84: Dad’s Army (1065 times, 1968-2021)
• =84: Murder, She Wrote (1065 times, 2002-2011)
• 83: Laurel and Hardy (1066 times, 1948-2005)
• 82: The Magic Roundabout (1070 times, 1965-1985)
• 81: In the Night Garden (1106 times, 2007-2012)
• 80: The Phil Silvers Show (1107 times, 1957-2004)
• 79: Doctor Who (1138 times, 1963-2021)
• 78: Watchdog (1141 times, 1985-2019)
• 77: Wogan (1142 times, 1982-2010)
• 76: University Challenge (1182 times, 1994-2021)
• 75: Tom and Jerry (1186 times, 1967-2003)
• 74: The Sky at Night (1201 times, 1957-2013)
• 73: Call My Bluff (1208 times, 1965-2005)
• 72: Grange Hill (1243 times, 1978-2008)
• 71: Mastermind (1291 times, 1972-2021)

The eagle-eyed amongst you may have noticed a few programmes there that weren’t there before: Chucklevision, Call My Bluff and Mastermind. That’s because the newly-added Children’s BBC listings sent a few programmes much higher up the list (and in one case, booted a show out of the list entirely. ‘Money For Nothing’, if you’re wondering). And best of all, meant the mighty Chucklevision makes the Top 100 after all.

I’ve now edited the previous parts of the listing on the site to account for these changes, adding entries for Chucklevision, Call My Bluff and Mastermind in the correct positions accordingly. But, to save you from having to go find them, here they are:

86: ChuckleVision

Shown 1055 times, 1987-2012

Here’s an entry that took quite a lot of digging to get some accurate numbers on. But, given the importance and gravitas of the programme in question, I’m sure you’ll agree it was worth the time poring through Genome to pick out individual episodes buried within faux-programme listings for ‘Saturday Starts Here’, ‘Children’s BBC’ and ‘CBBC’, then checking everything against an episode guide for CV to ensure I’d not missed anything. I’m not kidding, either. This one took ages. And I’m not kidding about the importance of the programme, either. A cultural touchstone for entire generations of children (and adults) across a quarter-century on our screens, and two of the absolute nicest people in showbusiness.

Not that the Chuckle Brothers first arrived on our screens fully-formed. Their first appearances on TV in the early 1980s came when Paul and Barry were joined by older brothers Jimmy and Brian Patton to make up a four-man Chuckle Brothers outfit, as can be seen in programmes such as 3-2-1 and The Good Old Days, a bepermed Barry referred to as ‘Legs’ throughout and still the target for most of the slaps from their slapstick act. Despite putting together a thoroughly enjoyable variety turn, the quartet soon span off into a pair of double-acts, Jimmy and Brian becoming The Patton Brothers, Paul and Barry retaining the Chuckle Brothers name. Not that this was an acrimonious parting of the ways – Jimmy and Brian would regularly feature in their younger siblings’ future programmes.

Not that Barry and Paul went straight to the personas we now know them for. Their first programme as a double-act on Children’s BBC seems almost surreal when viewed now (and I recall, pretty weird even at the time). Following a few appearances on 1983’s Roger The Dog Show, The Chucklehounds (“featuring The Chucklehound Brothers”) earned a standalone episode for their antics, The Chucklehounds Christmas airing on Christmas Eve morning BBC1 in 1984. That was followed by a full series, starting in February 1986, with the lead actors now billed as ‘The Chuckle Brothers’.

The programme – a full episode here, if you’re curious – was pretty much a low-budget attempt at a live-action cartoon, with the pair wobbling about in dog costumes and getting up to all manner of slapstick shenanigans. No dialogue, but soundtracked with the zaniest sounds a Yamaha PSS-170 could muster. Problem is, while actual cartoons airing on BBC1 at the time were carefully choreographed chaos from the likes of Chuck Jones, here you had an undoubtedly talented variety act donning great big dog heads that limit mobility and visibility, with a modest budget likely offering little time for retakes. If you’re feeling charitable, it was okay for what it was, and they certainly had few qualms about what they got up to (the episode I’ve linked to includes a Chucklehound on a motorbike. Inside the studio. No, it probably wouldn’t happen nowadays) But they were capable of so much more.

And so, from the morning of Saturday 26 September 1987, Chucklevision first hit our screens as a weekly precursor to Going Live. And watching it now, it still holds up very well. Not that this should be any surprise – they are actual brothers, after all – but the rapport that we’re so familiar with is immediately obvious, you have to wonder why the blazes they’d just spent eighteen months wobbling about in dog costumes and not speaking to each other. Right from the opening episode, Chucklevision is so packed with Tim Vine-grade jokes, you can’t help but grin throughout.

PAUL: Let’s take a look at the latest videos.

[A GRINNING BARRY HOLDS UP SEVERAL VHS TAPES]

PAUL: Very nice, aren’t they?

ChuckleVision, s01e01, BBC1, TX: 08:40 Saturday 26 Sept 1987

As you can see there, the first couple of series combined studio-based humour with outdoor footage – a departure from what most Chucklefans would be used to, but their dynamic works every bit as well in that setup. I think it works so well because despite it being such a traditional double act – the idiot who knows nothing and the idiot who knows everything – they shun the traditional trope of having the Oliver Hardy/Bud Abbott/Tommy Cannon/Stewart Lee one regularly express anger or frustration at the foolery of his counterpart, Paul being (for the most part) relentlessly cheery throughout makes all the difference. And it was a formula that worked tremendously well – as the show’s run of 21 series suggests. TWENTY-ONE SERIES, with new episodes being produced from 1987 to 2009.

It took until 2008’s twentieth series before episodes of Chucklevision debuted anywhere but BBC One, but premiering on the CBBC channel was clearly no demotion. The opening episode of that series (‘Mind Your Manors’) took in guest turns from Harry Hill and Seinfeld’s Guy Siner (oh, okay: Allo Allo’s Guy Siner. He was in Seinfeld once, though), and was later repeated on BBC One.

In short, the brothers Chuckle were and are a true phenomenon in children’s television. At the time of writing, a BBC Programme Index search for ‘Chucklevision’ (it really helps that it has such a unique title) returns details of 2,976 broadcasts of the programme (many of which were on the CBBC channel). But perhaps the greatest legacy they’ve left the world can be found by going into a room containing anyone between the ages of 20 and 45 and saying “To me…”.

73: Call My Bluff

Shown 1208 times, 1965-2005

University Challenge isn’t the only programme on the list to have had a slightly surprising origin story from the other side of the Atlantic. Despite feeling like the very epitome of dry early 1980s BBC-2 output (well, it does to me), the programme actually had a much more glamorous birthplace: Studio 6A at NBC Studios in Manhattan’s Rockefeller Center. That was where the original incarnation of the series was recorded in 1965, where host Bill Leyden challenged two teams (each comprising one celebrity and two contestants) to determine the true meaning of various obscure and archaic words. The winners would pocket a jackpot of $100 (rising to a potential $200 in the end-of-show bonus game).

Despite the glitz of a celebrity guest roster (which included Betty White, Lauren Bacall and Abe Burrows), the format wasn’t a success, lasting only a matter of months before being cancelled by NBC. Recordings of the programme were believed to have been destroyed, though the complete premiere episode does survive and is available to view at the show’s Lost Media Wiki page.

It took no time at all for the BBC to leap upon the format, pausing only to rip out the cash jackpot and replace the four contestants with additional wry celebrities, then shove it onto BBC-2 in October 1965. The quizmaster (or as the show had it, ‘Referee’) gig changed hands a few times at first – actor and musician Robin Ray took the reins for the first series, followed by actor Joe Melia for the next, then Peter Wheeler for a spell before finally landing on the referee most closely associated with the series: Robert “England’s Answer To Magnus Magnusson” Robinson. Cue countless impressions on the likes of Spitting Image, Now… Something Else, End Of Part One, A Bit of Fry and Laurie and many, many more.

The roles of team captain would also become inextricably linked to the series too, especially in the case of comedy writer-cum-raconteur Frank Muir. During a lengthy writing career alongside Denis Norden working for everyone from Jimmy Edwards to The Frost Report, followed by management stints in the LE departments of the BBC and LWT, Muir had built up quite a reputation as a wordsmith (indeed, with Norden he coined the immortal Carry-On phrase “Infamy, infamy, they’ve all got it in for me”, originally used for radio comedy Take It From Here). Call My Bluff offered the loquacious Muir a prime opportunity to put his wordmongery to good use. [EDIT: As reader Paul Jackson points out, credit should also be showered on Muir’s long-term opponents, namely Patrick Campbell (1966-80) and Arthur Marshall (1980-88). You are quite correct, Paul.]

The original run of Bluff, from October 1965 to December 1988, plus a one-off special in 1994 to mark thirty years of BBC2, clocked up 25 series’ and 542 episodes. Quite the innings, but as the channel geared up for a new generation of panel shows (kickstarted by the success of Have I Got News For You), the decidedly old-school Bluff had run its course. But not, it would turn out, for too long.

In 1996, the series was retooled as a daytime BBC1 series, with a suitably brighter, more 90s-friendly set and a new referee, Bob Holness. Alan Coren and Sandi Toksvig took on team captain roles. While it might not be the first line-up you’d think of for Call My Bluff, it was certainly a success – lasting for a further twelve series and a total of 555 episodes before the final Bluff in 2004. By that time, the line-up had changed a bit – 2003 seeing Toksvig replaced by Rod Liddle, and Fiona Bruce had picked up the referee’s baton (yes, I know referees don’t have batons).

In May 2014, Call My Bluff received a further anniversary shout-out in satirical retrospective Harry and Paul’s Story of the Twos. Rechristened ‘Speech Impediment’, an impersonated panel of Bluff mainstays were challenged to determine the meaning behind the word ‘paedophile’ (here I should add: in reference to the BBC of the 1970s failing to recognise the number of absolute dangers working there, rather than in any direct reference to specific Call My Bluff regulars).

EXTRA SUPER BONUS CONTENT UPDATE:

Ever wondered what one of the TRUE/BLUFF cards from Call My Bluff looks like in close-up? Well, with a weighty chunk of thanks to Paul R Jackson, here’s a look at one in more detail. It was sent to Paul in February 1979 by producer Johnny Downes and is signed by the Bluff regulars plus Nigel Havers.

71: Mastermind

Shown 1291 times, 1972-2021

“One’s a Trade Union leader, the other’s a member of the Cabinet.”

You know, there can’t be too many quiz programmes based on their creator’s experiences of being interrogated by the Gestapo. But that’s precisely the inspiration television producer Bill Wright has given for the intimidating environment for British television’s longest-running (and most parodied) quiz programme.

As we’ve seen a few times to far, it’s a format that really doesn’t need laying out here. Dark room, Magnus “Iceland’s Answer To Robert Robinson” Magnusson, black chair, specialist subject, I’ve Started So I’ll Finish. Originally airing in 1972, it didn’t became the nation’s favourite Serious Quiz Programme overnight. Initially going out at 10.45pm on Monday nights (with an afternoon repeat each Wednesday), it took the downfall of another series for Mastermind to get a wider audience.

1969 saw upstart London channel LWT broadcast a new series of TV comedy plays by Ray Galton and Alan Simpson, which featured an impressive cast: Harry H Corbett, Stratford Johns, Bob Monkhouse, Pats Coombs and Hayes, plus Leslie Philips. The first episode of The Galton and Simpson Comedy – “The Suit” – saw Phillips play an adulterous scoundrel whose suit is stolen during a night at his mistress’s flat. As a result, he needs to find a way to make his way across London to his marital home sans underwear, dignity and excuses.

This premise would provide the basis for a new Galton and Simpson sitcom on BBC-1 four years later. Casanova ’73 saw Leslie Phillips play duplicitous PR exec Henry Newhouse, whose happy marriage to wife Carol doesn’t stop him seeking freelance relationships at any given opportunity. While the programme itself wasn’t remotely as smut-packed as the premise might suggest (the first episode focuses on Newhouse repeatedly trying to disrupt postal deliveries to prevent Carol from seeing a love letter addressed to Henry), such pre-watershed displays of infidelity attracted a lot of negative attention for the Corporation, and the series was swiftly shunted to a 9.25pm slot.

That left a gaping hole at 8pm each Thursday evening. What’s something so inoffensive, so sedate, so sober that nobody could complain? Not even Whitehouse? Step forward. Mastermind. By that point, it had been going out in a post-11pm slot each Monday night, and yet here it was – Magnus and his darkened interrogation chamber thrust unexpectedly into the spotlight. The irony.

From there it became a television institution, not only clocking up a huge number of episodes, but also a variety of spinoff series:

• Celebrity Mastermind (247 eps, 2002-now, initially as ‘Mastermind Celebrity Special’)
• Des Lynam’s Sport Mastermind (18 eps, 2008, initially billed as ‘Sport Mastermind’)
• Doctor Who Mastermind (1 ep, 2005)
• Junior Mastermind (24 eps, 2004-2007)
• Mastermind Champions (3 eps, 1982)
• Mastermind International (6 eps, 1979-1983)
• Mastermind Masters (4 eps, 1995)

A note also has to be made of how widely parodied Mastermind is as a format, with everyone from Morecambe & Wise to Hey Duggee featuring scenes centred on the famous chair. But, of course, by far the best-known nod to Mastermind has to be David Renwick’s “Answer the Question Before Last” sketch for the Two Ronnies in  1980. Anyone resident in Britain for more than seven minutes is well aware of this superb routine (it’s playing on a loop on a big screen at Heathrow arrivals, you know), but did you know there’s a longer version of the sketch?

In 1983, the Ronnies had a live residency at the London Palladium, performing many of their favourite routines to thousands of fans. And, as transcribed by the marvellous UK Gameshows website, that included an extended version of the famed Mastermind sketch, Renwick having written additional questions and answers to maximise the merriment. I’m not going to quote any of it here, it’s too lovely a thing to steal any clicks from the UKGS site, if you want to read it go here (and as an even more special super bonus, it also includes a transcript of the original version of the sketch from an episode of Radio 4 comedy show The Burkiss Way).

Phew. There’s an update that took you ten minutes to read and me a lot longer to put together. Tune in again soon for a the next few entries in the countdown, now the damn thing is a bit more stable. Hopefully my sanity can remain stable, at least until I need to error check the broadcast history of Blue Peter.