07 November 2008
by TomLoxley-RT

Watching Paul Merton kick a man in the groin, combining the swift upstroke of a goose-stepping Basil Fawlty with the sort of profuse apologies offered by his wife Sybil, brought tears to my eyes. Of laughter.

What it did to the poor chap on the receiving end, goodness knows. Apart from confirm his near lunatic commitment to getting into the Guinness Book of Records by any means possible (and as the reigning holder of the "most kicks to the groin" record, clearly any means are acceptable these days to the record breakers' bible).

Merton is the kind of Englishman we should be proud to send abroad, to travel in the footsteps of Whicker, Palin and the like. Heaven knows what he's doing on Five. It's like finding Red Rum at the donkey derby.

Unlike Stephen Fry's race round the States in a London cab (sadly, a fat man with a thin idea), Merton's approach has been a leisurely treat. Whether watching further feats of testicular fortitude from mystics at Hindu festivals, riding shotgun with street-lethal eunuchs on a mission to extort or wrapping an anaconda round his neck while on call with Delhi's snake collectors, Merton has meandered round the sub-continent with wide eyes and good humour.

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Last night's TV
Paul Merton in India was surreal - filled with planes that don't fly and naked cameramen

Nancy Banks-Smith
The Guardian, Thursday 9 October 2008

I am glued to TV news like Garfield to a car window. Reporters shout "Guv'nor!" like street urchins as the governor of the Bank of England waddles into Downing Street. Which is, itself, surrounded by scaffolding, as though the foundations were shaking. The business editor of the BBC, who has blushed unseen for years, is suddenly out of his bottle and enormous. Iceland melts and the air is filled with the sound of pips squeaking.

I didn't really want to join Paul Merton in India (Five) and Griff Rhys Jones in Greatest Cities of the World (ITV1). I like it here.

Paul Merton in a collapsible panama has a disconcerting look of Benny Hill. He is bigger man than you expect, and seems to be deliberately sent to places where he looks bigger still. He was either in India or some surreal India of the imagination. As he doesn't like religion, rats or flying, the first episode, naturally, included the lot.

Particularly endearing was Mr Gupta and his Amazing Flying Machine. Mr Gupta had bought a dilapidated plane, dismantled it ("I chopped it into pieces then joined the pieces back") and reassembled it in his back garden. With him in the cockpit and his wife in the cabin, their customers could enjoy all the excitement of flying (Mr Gupta: "We are going to belly land on the water! Use your lifejackets!" Mrs Gupta: "Don't panic! Don't panic!" Mr Gupta: "Save yourselves!") - without the inconvenience of dying. Or, indeed, leaving the ground. Mr Gupta said he did it because it made him happy and made his passengers happy. Paul's arse-over-tip escape down the emergency chute made everyone happy. It got a spontaneous round of applause from the other passengers and will amuse generations yet unborn.

It all ended with a five-day celebration of Shiva's wedding. One can only say an uproariously good time was had by all, including Paul Merton, who joined an ashram where residents wore, appropriately enough, nothing but ashes. A certain latitude was allowed. One devotee wore Miss Marple's hat and, at some hazy point in the celebrations, Merton borrowed it. The sect showed their devotion to Shiva by, as Merton put it, doing tricks with their dicks and hanging rocks from their cocks. This presented the cameraman with a delicate quandary. He finally threw in the towel and took off his clothes, too. The devotees asked Merton what he did for a living, and seemed delighted with the answer. The word "comedian" rippled appreciatively around the naked circle. Merton looked relieved. They hadn't asked him to make them laugh. They seemed sublimely happy already.

Meanwhile, in Greatest Cities of the World (ITV1), Griff Rhys Jones showed great economy by abseiling down a New York skyscraper. He had used precisely the same shot, with added profanity, in his series on anger. The Empire State building, as he mentioned, was built during the great depression. It features in a song of the time.

Once I built a tower to the sun Bricks and mortar and lime
Once I built a tower, now it's done
Brother, can you spare a dime

The trouble with stockpiling TV programmes is that they pass their sell-by date. Griff never mentioned a spot of bother on the stock exchange. Or a quicker way of descending a skyscraper.

There will soon, you feel, be fewer takers for the $7,000-a-night suite at The Carlyle and more diners at the $2 hot-dog stand outside the Museum of Modern Art.

On Broadway he met two great dames slapping on the greasepaint and whacking the conversation to and fro like the Williams sisters in a Wimbledon final. He mentioned badinage. "What is badinage?" shrieked one. "A little chat between the two of you," murmured Griff.

"I thought it was some kind of hygienic cleansing," shrieked the other.

His theme was the New York melting pot. It is never more obvious than in the credits of any American TV show. So put your hands together for Damon Bundschum, Silva Santamaria, Andrew Hassenruck and (how did she get in here?) Rosemary Plum. Dear Rosemary Plum, Somerset misses you.

There was a time you could go to the Arctic and fight a polar bear singlehanded, as Nelson is said to have done when he was only 16. (He had two hands then, of course.) Or you could be eaten by a polar bear, like Sir John Franklin. Lady Franklin, a bit of a looker like Helen of Troy, launched 30 ships to find him. Their enthusiasm went off the boil a bit when one expedition discovered that Franklin's expedition, lost, dying and disorientated, also ate each other.

Now the polar bear is swimming for its life. There is talk of drilling for oil, gas and gold in the Arctic where, quite recently, it was so quiet you could hear your heart beat. Wilderness Explored (BBC4) was like a wonderful story that ends unhappily ever after.

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Paul Merton (born Paul James Martin on 9 July 1957) is an English comedian, writer and actor. He is well known for his regular appearances as a team captain on the popular BBC panel game Have I Got News for You, as a regular panellist on Radio 4's Just a Minute and as one of Comedy Store's Comedy Store Players. He has also hosted Room 101 and ITV's improv show Thank God You're Here. Channel 4's Paul Merton: The Series, co-written and performed by Merton, achieved popularity in the early 1990s. His latest series is Five's Paul Merton in India, a documentary covering Merton's exploration of the cultural aspects of the country, which was commissioned after the success of Paul Merton in China. He has written several books, including the 1995 mock autobiography, My Struggle.

Known for his cutting wit, his style is characterised by describing extremely improbable scenarios with a straight, almost serious, face. He rapidly grabs hold of any chance to expand on a subject and stretch its credibility to snapping point. In a recent public poll featured in The Guardian, he was voted alongside the likes of Oscar Wilde, Spike Milligan, Noël Coward and Winston Churchill as one of the ten greatest wits of all time.[1] He also appeared in The Observer's "The A-Z of Laughter" in 2003, a special which featured the fifty funniest acts in British comedy by letter,[2] while The Comedian's Comedian, a 2005 Channel 4 poll of fellow comedians, saw him voted among the top twenty greatest comedians in history.[3] Merton has accumulated various awards during his career including BAFTA-, British Comedy- and Broadcasting Press Guild Awards.

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