Nancy Banks-Smith

The endearing thing about Benny Hill for me is that he obviously watches a great deal of television, unlike many performers who are too busy doing it to view it. Those who watch too much TV learn to enjoy even its awfulness. Particularly its awfulness.

"Keep 'Em Rolling," in the Comedy Playhouse series, was a custard pie catastrophe so dire that three minutes' silence seems more appropriate than speech.

"Girls About Town" (ATV) had a slight American accent. Two women - there are always two women in American family comedies. Always one pretty and dizzy, always one plump and funny. And always popping in and out of each other's houses to discuss, in this episode, the dullness of life in general and the deadly dullness of husbands in particular.

What I always liked about the Steptoes was the comfort they gave me. If I had never seen a series except, say, "Not in Front of the Children," I would lie awake worrying about being subnormal.

"Catweazle" (London Weekend) is a new series for children, so I commandeered a couple of critics. After a false start in which David Frost on a trailer was hailed as Catweazle, the new series seemed to have the necessary magic required to immobilise young children. To me, an old man, who says he's 900 years old but doesn't appear to speak Anglo Saxon, is both inanity and certifiable. But that is parental prejudice. Unsuitable companions suit children fine.

It is possible for instance, to analyse Thames's two-hour-long old film "The Rebel." But I find the attempt rather like trying to fillet a fishfinger.

Comedy Playhouse veers wildly. One week delightful, this week deplorable. Due partly, if not wholly, to the casting of Maggie Fitzgibbon whose strong suit is wholesomeness as a much-married hardbitten, passe film star. It was like seeing Mum in a topless twin set.

The Juggs, in a direct line of descent from Steptoe and Till Death, is very worth while turning into a series.

Speight's speciality is creating the ranting monster, writing the overwhelming monologue. Nobody towers in "Curry and Chips," though Eric Sykes stands a head above the rest.

Stiff with tension, in case it was a fluke, I watched Cribbins (Thames) again this week. And, without actually falling about, I did bounce up and down a bit. My gratitude to the script writers. And, naturally, to Mr Moody.