Michael McIntyre's comic timing

He's come from an Edinburgh attic to sell out a 54-date tour and bag a primetime BBC slot. So why is the comedian still so sweatily anxious about life?

You can picture the scene... an executive at BBC entertainment groans as ITV's Harry Hill's TV Burp grows more popular with each series. "Get me something like that!" she/he barks. "Something that takes the mickey out of everyone on the telly. People like watching that on a Saturday." The result is far, far better than you'd expect. Either the producers have crammed all their best efforts into the first episode or this mock-celebrity-filled sketch show is a winner. It doesn't hurt that Jon Culshaw and Debra Stephenson are right on the money with almost all their impressions. Culshaw gets Michael McIntyre's strange, high/low voice perfectly and his Ross Kemp on Gangs spoof where Kemp meets the Famous Five ("The whole gang is clearly off their head on ginger beer") works a treat. Stephenson, meanwhile, is equally convincing as Dannii Minogue or a grimacing Davina McCall. Why it's quite so enjoyable to see, say, Ray Mears impersonated to a tee or some lovingly imagined links from The One Show is anyone's guess. But it is.

Michael McIntyre is laughing all the way to the bank

Michael McIntyre is set to become one of Britain's wealthiest entertainers, earning up to £10 million from a series of sold-out shows, DVD sales and a book deal.

Pass notes No 2,662: Michael McIntyre

The standup comedian is set to earn £10m this year. What is the secret of his success?

The BBC should be wary of overexposing its new post-Sachsgate comedy hero, Michael McIntyre. Energetic, likeable and genuinely funny though he is, there's a danger that his almost weekly appearances on the box will wear the charm thin. Anyway, this amusing hour-long special features him performing a stand-up show to a sell-out crowd at the Hammersmith Apollo.

After the success of his roadshow, here is another chance to see Michael McIntyre's live routine recorded at the Hammersmith Apollo. This is high-energy observational comedy, filled with verbal gymnastics and a flouncing physicality that has him skipping around the stage, and it's good-humoured and safe.

TV Review: Michael McIntyre's Comedy Roadshow

To review a singular show like this would be pretty pointless as you'd descend into 'this woman was funny... this other guy, not so funny.' However, as the series came to a close, it's probably worth looking back at the whole thing to see how it gelled as a project. Did it work? Was it worth tuning in for it? Is Michael McIntyre set for proper prime-time stardom?

Michael McIntyre is uproariously funny. He is also very nice. That he manages to be both simultaneously is testament to his talent. Tonight, his touring stand-up show is recorded in Belfast. Patrick Kielty, a local, is the "headline act". Fellow comedians Neil Delamere, Jeff Green and Kerry Godliman also take turns.

Michael McIntyre bounds around the stage like an overexcited circus ringmaster when his roadshow reaches Belfast. He's remorselessly cheerful (a good thing in a comedian) and relentlessly good-natured as he has gentle fun with audience member Christine Bleakley about the incongruities of The One Show ("I saw Andrew Lloyd Webber talking about knife crime"). And redoubtable Olympic gold-medallist Dame Mary Peters gamely plays along when McIntyre does far from dextrous impressions of her winning sports. But really he's little more than master of ceremonies, this week introducing Jeff Green, who gets some mileage out of being newly married and his wife's love of cushions, a chipper Kerry Godliman, who wonders why baby clothes have pockets, and headliner Patrick Kielty, whose best bit is a funny Facebook version of the Middle East conflict.

Michael McIntyre continues his stand-up roadshow with a stop at the Birmingham Hippodrome. There's the usual fast-paced introduction from McIntyre, followed by sets from a wry Canadian called Tom Stade, a wild-haired Australian called Steve Hughes and an energetic Yorkshireman called Paul Tonkinson. The evening ends with a set by Shappi Khorsandi, a female Iranian stand-up who, she confesses, would rather have been a horse.