This is the third attempt to put JAM on the box, the BBC having done it previously in 1994 and 1999. Parsons and Merton appear in each episode, with guests appearing being Sue Perkins, Gyles Brandreth, Stephen Fry, Liza Tarbuck, Graham Norton, Josie Lawrence and Julian Clary. There are also a fair number of new contestants: Jason Manford, Miles Jupp, Ruth Jones, Phill Jupitus, John Sergeant and Russell Tovey.

The format is the same, but there are some obvious changes; for a start, there's no scorer sitting next to Parsons. Instead he just has the scores on a screen, and the clock is started by a large button next to him. There's also a little bell rang to indicate they are moving into the final round.

Some things do remain the same, though. The studio is designed to look like the art deco BBC Radio Theatre, where the radio series is normally recorded. For some reason, however, the studio lights change from blue to purple when the subjects start. Why they need to do this I have no idea. I find the camerawork even more irritating. There's no need to cut from here to there every three seconds.

However, there's still much to enjoy from this show. I for one enjoy the little amusing asides that go through out each episodes. My personal favourite was in the fourth episode when the panel kept making jokes about Miles Jupp being the supposed love child of Gyles Brandreth. The jokes just kept snowballing throughout.

With regards to the TV adaptation, I know that there will always be people who will insist that it's not as good as the one on radio, but there are always people who complain about TV adaptations of radio shows. If we rejected every TV adaptation of a radio adaptation out of hand we wouldn't have had the TV successes of shows like Whose Line is it Anyway? or Little Britain.

I'd love to see more episodes of the TV version of Just a Minute; but I doubt they'll produce them. Unless they want to celebrate the show's 50th anniversary, that is, and given that Parsons is 88 years old that might be a bit dangerous.

A room of my own: Julian Clary

The comic and writer in the living room of his ancient Ashford house, which was once the home of Noël Coward.

Whereas previous series have displayed a certain demented resolve to entertain on their own terms, this scarcely credible fifth series of Benidorm is visibly going through the motions - not that this is likely to stop millions tuning in. There's the super-camp guest-spot (cabaret crooner Asa Elliott); the injection of focus-grouped new talent (Loose Women's Sherrie Hewson as the Solana's fearsome new manager); the last gasp shortcut to emotional connection (a climactic Don't Stop Believin'); and enough double entendres and toilet humour ('arsonist'! Bottom from A Midsummer Night's Dream!) to have Julian Clary checking his jokebook for plagiarism. Plenty of the regulars are back, but the joie de vivre that covered many of the cracks is long gone, leaving behind a tired, cynical cash cow.

You're entitled to ask why you should be interested in a comedian you've never heard of who died 60-odd years ago. Bob Hope called Sid Field "probably the best comedian of them all". For Tony Hancock, Field was inspirational and David Suchet tells a good story with actorly flourishes. Tragically, scarcely a fragment of Field in action survives. Yet we get a glimmer of how Field created the character-based sketch comedy that's become the norm in British comedy. He also pioneered camp - "the original mince," observes Julian Clary, tartly.

The Poirot actor presents this documentary about music hall great Sid Field, having played the Birmingham-bred entertainer in a 1994 musical. He talks to people who worked with Field, including Petula Clark, and fan Julian Clary, and asks why the pioneer of camp and sketch comedy is now remembered by relatively few people. Field sadly died in 1950, and so just missed the advent of popular television. This programme is part of BBC4's season on musical entertainers, which also includes Frank Skinner on George Formby on Thursday.

Sometimes it can seem as if standup comedians are everywhere. Clustered on panel shows, chat shows, sitcoms; hosting clips programmes, commenting on the news, making you chicken pie when you get home at night...

That's just me (I'm married to a standup), and that's a bad joke. Not quite as bad as some we heard on Stand Up For Comic Relief, but close.

Last week, Radio 4 took us through the now familiar process of established comedians mentoring novices for charidee (you phone in to vote for the best, and the money goes to Comic Relief). Thus, Dev from Radio 1 was tutored by Chris Ramsey, Radio 2's Tony Blackburn got Julian Clary, Tom Service (Radio 3) by Sandi Toksvig, Jenni Murray (Radio 4) by Mark Steel, Tony Livesey (5Live) worked with Justin Moorhouse and Shaun Keaveny from 6Music was paired with Miles Jupp. (If there was ever a sign that the BBC are now fully supportive of 6Music, Shaun doing Comic Relief is it.)

Before we heard the routines, in the "funny" 6.30pm slot on Wednesday, Radio 4 offered us two half-hour puff pieces on Monday and Tuesday, where the newbies expressed their fear and competitiveness and their mentors cracked funnies. Tony Blackburn was the coolest, his shtick so tough that Clary's advice could only slide off it like an egg chucked at a tank. Blackburn refused to meet Clary more than once, and was as corny as can be, his light-ent persona carrying him through hoary gags such as getting the whole audience to look under their seats for a nonexistent prize. Tony Livesey was cheesy too, in ye old working men's club manner: terrible jokes, delivered with a wink and some panache. Shaun Keaveny was likable, as were Jenni Murray and Tom Service. But best by far was Dev, who told a truthful, funny, well-constructed story about asking a girl out complete with call-backs to earlier jokes. He should win.

As an aside, much as Comic Relief is an admirable institution, it should be held at least partly responsible for all these standups and their hijacking of mainstream culture. Funny is God, these days. (And God, though good with a one-liner, wasn't actually much of a giggle.) Oh, I'm so sick of listening to people say stuff that sounds as though it's a punch-line, but isn't actually, you know, funny. Hey ho. Adam and Joe will be back on 6Music next month. They really do make me laugh.

Teen-favourite pop punkers McFly are the house band for this episode of the comedian's cheerful weekly mixture of music and comedy. Laughs are provided by prize-winning comedian Zoe Lyons, Julian Clary and regular stand-up Russell Kane, while Little Britain and Come Fly with Me star Matt Lucas and tenor Alfie Boe present the TV debut of The Impossible Dream, their duet cover of the song from Dale Wasserman's musical The Man of La Mancha.

My Teenage Diary, now halfway through its second series, is proving a gentle, amusing listen. Julian Clary, last week, was a tad mournful about his young self, but this week Meera Syal positively revelled in reading out her entries, treating us to her original Midlands accent and 70s angst. It was lovely. Generally unsuccessful with boys, her teenage self did meet one fellow at judo she rather liked. "He is very intelligent, has epileptic fits and reckons God is a spaceman."

Video: Julian Clary on 25 years of comedy and being 50

Julian Clary, who is well known for his stand-up comedy, his dress sense and flamboyance, has been entertaining fans for more than 25 years with his unique style and innuendo.

Interview: Julian Clary

It could be said that bringing mince to Scotland is like taking Cheryl Cole to Newcastle. However, Julian Clary is confident that in touring his stand-up show, Lord of the Mince, here he will - to steal his own double entendre - experience a warm hand on his entrance.