I always look forward to the British Comedy Awards, but this year's were very disappointing.
Angus Deayton is an autocue master but maybe the live broadcast and the fact he has to stand up all the way through (exposing his awkwardness at his miniature stature) is detrimental to his performance, as aside from the opening monologue, he was largely poor. Mind you, that gag about Jonathan Ross knowing now his brother felt was masterful.
As for the winners, well ... ho hum. There is no way that Russell Brand is funnier than Michael McIntyre, Ricky Gervais isn't fit to lace David Mitchell's loafers and there is only so much laughing you can do at American superstars who are slow on the uptake before it becomes a bit too smug.
The rescue acts were Frank Skinner at the end ("when does your suspension come to an end, Angus?"), the impassioned speech by David Renwick and the amazing hush around the building as Geoffrey Perkins was posthumously honoured. I was pleased Jasper Carrott was recognised for his life's work, although I suspect the reason he chose to be serious in acceptance rather than funny is because he has to be tightly scripted to raise laughs.