Rory Bremner lampoons Russell Brand

Rory Bremner becomes Russell Brand, cheekily grinning by a microphone and looking uncannily like the long-haired comedian as he made his prank calls to Andrew Sachs, in his new show.

This is seriously funny. Lee is an absolute master of stand-up, his brilliantly measured delivery enabling him to weave gold from even the most unpromising material. Tonight, in the first of six themed shows, he's talking about books - and, in particular, celebrity autobiographies. If you're Chris Moyles or Russell Brand, I'd advise you to look away now.

Gavin's Gag Over Joke

James Corden and Mathew Horne revealed the BBC banned songs about Jesus on their new sketch show after the Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand prank row.

Four woman dressed up as Russell Brand rummaging through a rubbish bin exclaiming 'forsooth' and 'perchance' makes for a diverting image. But like most of Beehive, the comedy sketch show from whence it sprang, it was only half an idea - a cartoon cut-out in search of a gag to hang it on. It's just too easy to get this sort of half-baked stuff on the telly these days.

Russell Brand is a unique comedian who, despite his recent brush with controversy, wins the crowd over with his off-key charm.

Producers and directors, weep and despair! Bilious but brutally funny critic Charlie Brooker is back for another series of satirical swipes at the television industry. First up in his cross-hairs, expensive but bland television dramas, property shows and the furore surrounding Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross.

Yes, he's an acquired taste. Yes, he looks like he has more teeth than is surely humanly possible, and yes he ca be filthier than a coal house door. But Russell Brand is a master of florid absurdities, which makes him arguably one of the most magnetic performers of his generation.

In this second Ponderland, Brand is voluble, silly, wildly witty and, yes, a bit naughty sometimes. Using as props a clutch of ostensibly dreary archive clips from what looks like the 1970s, Brand weaves tales of madness encompassing an obnoxious child and his bullied, cut-glass parents, a girl who can't stop sneezing with a mum who looks like Radiohead's Thom Yorke and a three-year-old on a motorcycle.

It's been a terrible week for popular, wild-haired comedian Russell Brand. After he and Jonathan Ross left lewd messages on actor Andrew Sachs' voicemail during a Radio 2 show, more than 18,000 complaints pushed him into parting company with the BBC.

Inevitably, the tabloid furore over 'Sachsgate' boosted the return of Russell Brand's Ponderland to 1 million viewers for the start of its second series.

Besides a better set, the bedrock of Ponderland's format remained the same: Brand introduces a funny clip from the TV archives, the footage is played to a live studio audience, and Brand finally dissects the clip by spinning it into a meandering, surreal few minutes of iffy stand-up. Some of it works, most of it doesn't. I've always found Brand an odd TV presence (his shark's grin, his big hair, those tight trousers), and much prefer his anarchic, playful radio persona without that visual distraction. It's just an ironic pity radio gave him enough rope to hang himself with, isn't it.

The BBC has suspended all Russell Brand-related activities for the foreseeable future. Assuming your hunger for Brand hasn't been entirely assuaged lately, the sole remaining source is Russell Brand's Ponderland, in which his customary rants are structured around random snippets of old news footage on a weekly theme, which, last night, was pets.

I'd call myself an admirer of Brand, if at times a reluctant one, but I don't think this format suits him. Either the stories are too bland for his outrage (an elderly aristocrat who dyes his pigeons primary colours) or the outrage is ready-made (an American woman who had had an affair with her dog and was now eyeing up her pony). Interesting to note in the closing credits, though, that the production company that makes it is called Vanity, and its logo is a cartoon of a naked man standing over a mirror and playing with his willy. What you see is what you get.

The Times Review

In Ponderland Russell Brand proves how very funny he is. The idea is that he riffs on topics in that Brand kind of a way that makes no sense written down. His jokes are not quotable, not because they are profane, but because they are a stream of mucky consciousness and absurdity.