Not so Clueless

 

SOME OF US DO HAVE A CLUE

Last night we were in a packed out Festival Theatre for a recording of a radio show. Which was something we hadn't done, at least for this particular show, for the best part of two decades.

The show, which goes out on BBC Radio 4, is called I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. It was the successor to the comedy I loved most from my childhood years, I'm Sorry, I'll Read That Again. But whereas ISIRTA was a sketch show, ISIHAC was conceived with laziness in mind, hence minimal need for a script. It was billed as "the antidote to panel games", and still is. The basic concept back then was unremitting silliness, and that proud tradition continues.

"back then" was 1972. Fifty two years and eighty one series later it is still going strong, and tickets for recordings of the shows sell out rapidly once announced. So we were lucky to be in the fourth row, with a fine view of what passes for the action.

The show format features a host, who doles out daft tasks to the four comedians on the panel. Also involved is the producer, and a pianist. Those tasks include things like singing one song to the tune of another, which is self explanatory, or Uxbridge English Dictionary where the panellists find new meanings for existing words. Singing often features, and the worse the singer the funnier.

For many years the show featured the late great Humphrey Lyttelton as it's chair, and his deadpan delivery was perfect for the role. Regular team members were Tim Brooke-Taylor, Graeme Garden (who had both been in ISIRTA), Barry Cryer and Willie Rushton. When Rushton died in 1996 his seat became a rotating guest spot.

I can't recall exactly when we went to our first recording, or how many we've been to. But it was certainly post-Willie, and before the turn of the century. Bradford was our baptism, with Sandi Toksvig in the guest seat that night. Over the years our attendance at shows crept over into double figures, and we travelled to Leeds, Harrogate, Halifax, and saw one in Southport where we lived. All of them featured the cast mentioned above, and an assortment of guests. All of them began with producer John Naismith coming out to explain what was about to happen for newcomers, and tell a few jokes to get the audience warmed up and volume levels established. His routine was much the same every time, including the jokes. And all of them featured Colin Sell on the piano, and regular target for Humph's jokes. Oh, and all of them featured the lovely Samantha...

For various reasons we never got to another recording after Humph died in 2008. So we had yet to see his eventual successor, Jack Dee, in action. (I did get in line for tickets in Preston early one morning, and lost out by 2 places in the queue...)

But here we were again. New chair. New panellists (all of the old regulars are now dead, except for Garden). There are no regulars on the teams now, but several people do tend to feature frequently, such as Tony Hawks. Not that he was there last night. We did get Rory Bremner, Pippa Evans, Milton Jones and Fred MacAulay. And some things hadn't changed. Out came a slightly greyer looking John Naismith, who at least had some new jokes, even if the rest of the patter was much the same. And at the ivories was Colin Sell. Now the target for Jack's abuse.

The show itself remains as it ever was. Silly. Hilariously silly. Much the same old games, the same old catch phrases, and the same need for audience participation to make the night what it should be. A show of hands revealed that over half the audience had never been to a recording before. So it was important that the old hands did their bit to lead when response was required.

And so we did. It might have been a nigh on twenty year gap, and the people on stage had changed, but it felt like it had only been a few weeks ago. Pavlov would have been proud of us. It was the best birthday present I could have had.