Nick Hancock

This current affairs comedy panel show, hosted by Nick Hancock, is also a guide to being a modern man. Last week's episode, the last in a six-part series, is typically sharp and sarcastic, with debates around what makes a metrosexual (fornicating on the Paris underground gets a good few laughs), the royal baby and the Wonga/Church of England spat. It's quick-witted and funny (though not hilarious) and comes across like a blokey Have I Got News For You.

Room 101 is reducing the numeral of its network, moving from BBC2 to BBC1, while increasing the number of participants. Whereas previous hosts Nick Hancock and Paul Merton quizzed a single celebrity about their little list of things to be eliminated, new chairman Frank Skinner has a trio competing to delete. Friday's first panel is Fern Britton, Danny Baker and Robert Webb.

This is a big alteration - a chat-show becoming a panel game - and the presumable justification is a move to a more mainstream panel, although the obvious risk is that a show which had a distinctive premise and form has been made to look like several others. Rather inconveniently, Webb will have been seen 48 hours earlier on BBC1 in the now structurally similar Would I Lie To You?

Acerbic tongues have been licking up the lemon juice in preparation for the return of Claudia Winkleman's deliciously scurrilous take on celebrity life. Joining her to tell us things that are not necessarily true about events that probably did happen are Dom Joly, Nick Hancock and Jo Caulfield. A crack legal team are on standby.

It is this principle, you supsect, that brought They Think It's All Over (BBC1) from radio to television, its great selling point being that it is not A Question of Sport but an ironic twist upon it. There are no repulsive jumpers here, while the scent of Brut is absent. What has replaced it (Body shop eucalyptus and mango exfoliating scrub, perhaps) is pleasanter, of course, because New Laddishness - as personified by presenter Nick Hancock, one of the movement's leaders - is less pernicious than the original.

Smug alert warning

The show should work, and it usually does, largely due to Dan Patterson, a producer with unparalleled success at transferring radio comedy to television. Peter Salem's music is brave and exquisitely macabre, and the titles are award-winners, but this particular edition must (as Denis Norden might say) have employed a flaw manager.