On the streets with Ann

I was expecting Ann Widdecombe on Prostitution to be a bit of curio. After all, she attacked the issue from a clearly defined moral point of view, meaning that I wasn't expecting a truly objective piece. However, I was doing the shrill politico a disservice.

Yes, Miss Widdecombe clearly had a agenda, but it was a completely upfront and honest one and not hidden the way so many filmmakers do. We are fully aware that the subject is being taken from a particular point of view but didn't make this crusade any less engaging or even illuminating.

Any attempt to try to put an end to prostitution is a bit like turning back the tide, but even though early in the piece Ann was claiming the moral high ground, she did show genuine concern for those plying their trade at the kerbside and there were some genuinely touching moments as Ann tried to save one drug-addled woman from a life on the streets.

We knew it was a lost cause, Ann probably did but at least she gave it a go and as she tootled about in her Smart car confronting pimps and madams, I found myself feeling a grudging respect for her.

Save the accompanying documentary, save the world

Having already watched the first season of Heroes, I've not really bothered that much with the BBC2 screenings but what I am making an effort to catch are the fascinating DVD extra style vinaigrettes that are Heroes Unmasked.

Produced with greater economy than the frankly waffly Doctor Who Confidential, these shows give a real flavour of what goes on behind the scenes, an insight into the creation of this weird and wonderful array of characters and an explanation into just how some of the show's spectacular special effects are achieved.

Thing is, it's also a reminder of just how good this was and I'm now positively itching for the second season to commence.

A bit of loose Cotton

I recently had the dubious pleasure of spending a week on one those caravan parks that provide an entertainment centre. It's here that we were treated to "entertainment" that seemed to me to be several decades out of date. Having seen That Antony Cotton Show, the fare on offer at the holiday park seems progressive in comparison.

Opening with a song is a really bad idea if your singing voice is so bad that if you turned up at an X Factor audition, you're likely to get no further than the car park outside. Surely someone somewhere could have told him this was a Very Bad Idea. I was slightly confused because I'm sure he wasn't this bad on Soapstar Superstar.

Next up we get the compulsory topical gags, except that these don't work either, a combination of weak material and poor delivery, although the studio audience - presumably bussed in from a few surrounding care homes - seem happy enough.

If you've had the stomach to stay with the embarrassing mess this long, you then get to see Cotton's interview technique, except that he doesn't seem to have one. By now the main achievement of the show is to show just what a great job Paul O'Grady does.

The sequence with Rustie Lee attempting to turn a banana into a caterpillar was a low point in the history of light entertainment.

I really don't understand why ITV are struggling with this chat spot, giving it to people whose talents clearly lie elsewhere. Give the chat format to a Brian Conley or a Bradley Walsh and it will fly because they know what they are doing in this sort of arena. Better still, rescue Des O'Connor from Countdown because he can do this sort of thing in his sleep.

Another girl, another planet

Tara Palmer Tomkinson managed to completely dominate Would I Lie To You, and though I was laughing out loud at many of her antics, I was left with the uneasy feeling that I was laughing at her rather than with her. That said, her uncontrolled ramblings about having clouds removed for her 21st had me in stitches.

Thankfully the format of the show is loose enough to allow Lee Mack and David Mitchell ample elbow room to flex their comedy muscles and it's only really host Angus Deayton who seems out of place, his links feeling as if they've been cut and pasted from old Have I Got News For You episodes.

Lucy Lastic

Ian Beale went absolutely purple this week as a greasy urchin from the chip shop attempted to deflower little Lucy. Sadly an increasingly orange-looking Max accompanied him as he headed off to rescue his child so the colour clash was terrible, though a good test for your new-fangled LCD telly.

I hate the way the Mitchell Sisters have been imposed on us in such a full on way. I like it when characters are brought in gradually so that I can make my mind up about them. Roxy and Ronnie have left me cold so far and I cared not a jot when they managed to get all the beer nicked from the pub.

The biggest shock about Patrick's mugging is that he's been separated from his hat. I thought he was permanently attached to it. Didn't he even keep it on when he bedded Pat? I feel like I've lost an old friend.

Late night line up

I've been a tad poorly this week, which had caused me to have trouble sleeping. There may be tons of channels still broadcasting in the dead of night but there's very little actually worth watching

I was surprised however to tune to ITV1 where Glitterball was showing on the EPG, to find myself watching an old black and white Jimmy Stewart movie. I like creaky old films, so a bit of publicity would be nice next time so that I can record them.

Other than that, and replays of BBC shows with sign language, teleshopping abounds but even that isn't as much fun as it was in the old days. Is Mike Levy and Amazing Discoveries still showing anywhere? Please let me know. Perhaps we need a Teleshopping Gold channel. I really miss watching Wally Nash sell his "hand hammered wok from the People's Republic of China".

Bits n Bobs

This may be heresy but I prefer calculating Crazy Casey to cranky Crazy Claire. I'm tempted to start a campaign to keep Casey on Coronation Street.

News that the Wicks family are leaving means that I can at least watch EastEnders without having to turn the volume down. I'll miss the shouty bunch though.

Tired as the Friday Night Project is getting, Alan Carr still manages to raise a smile here at Hogan Towers. Let's hope Channel 4 can find a better vehicle for his talents.

Young Elvis in Colour was one of the better tributes to the King as we commemorate thirty years since his passing. Too many other shows just wheeled on lame Elvis impersonators which seemed a bit lazy.