The Mrs Merton Show

Review by Brian Slade

The comedy roast would seem to be a comparatively new format, spearheaded by the multi-channel era of television and Comedy Central. In actual fact, it’s been around a lot longer, and in 1995 Caroline Aherne brought a show to the BBC that was packaged neatly as a gentle dig to daytime chat shows but was actually a gloriously bubble-bursting roast of the uniquely eclectic selection of guests persuaded to join in the acerbic fun – The Mrs Merton Show.

As a character, Mrs Merton had already been given airtime long before the BBC commissioned a series. Her first appearance was on radio in 1988, and a failed pilot for Yorkshire was followed by a more successful one for Granada. By now, Mrs Merton was a more elderly lady, with glasses on a chain, a clipboard full of questions and a nice cardigan over her dated floral dress. But behind the gentle northern accent and quaint fictional life that Mrs Merton led was a brutal tongue waiting to slice down her more awkward guests.

The show itself was a perfect pastiche of the cosy daytime talk-show that mostly pensioners found themselves watching, perfected by the likes of Esther Rantzen and Judith Chalmers, the latter of whom is mentioned on a number of occasions for age-related put-downs. With a studio of real-life pensioners positioned behind the comfy sofa, all seemingly on first name terms with Mrs Merton and normally with their own fictional back story, the programme had all the visuals of a gentle chat show, plus a house band – initially Hooky and the Boys (Peter Hook being Aherne’s husband at the time) and later the Patrick Trio.

It’s safe to say that no programme in British television would have had quite the same bizarre mixture of guests as The Mrs Merton Show. Keith Floyd and Melinda Messenger, Max Bygraves and Edwina Currie, Boy George and Vinnie Jones – even Mary Whitehouse made an appearance in an at home sequence. The opening episode had renowned Olympic athlete Kriss Akabusi as her first guest, a suitably bubbly and likeable character to set things off. He was subsequently joined by Debbie McGee, wife and on-screen assistant to magician Paul Daniels, setting the tone for one of Mrs Merton’s brutal put-downs with the line; “so what first attracted you to the millionaire Paul Daniels?”

The Mrs Merton style is a curious mix of Dame Edna, Kenny Everett and Larry Grayson. Her double-entendres are on the edge in an Everett way but get through because they are packaged in an allegedly innocent pensioner. When comparing Paul Daniels and Debbie McGee to David Copperfield and Claudia Schiffer, she references him, ‘…being known for his cunning stunts and she’s known for her stunning costumes.’ Naughty lady.

The Larry Grayson element is in the backstory given to the various pensioners. In the opening credits, Mrs Merton is knocking at the doors of terraced houses on cobbled streets, collecting the various senior citizens as they march down the street together. In the studio, they are referenced for their various ailments, life stories and dubious behaviours. In that same opening episode, she refers to one of her friends in the studio, asking, ‘Is your hip alright? How’s your pacemaker?’

Then finally and most importantly comes the Dame Edna element. Barry Humphries could be brutal to his guests under Dame Edna’s guise in a way that he himself would never get away with. So it was with Mrs Merton as many guests subsequent to Debbie McGee would find out – including Paul Daniels when he himself appeared on the show. Another veteran presenter appeared on the show – Jimmy Hill, after his departure from Match of the Day, and he was a victim too, with Mrs Merton pointing out that, ‘you weren’t the greatest player in the world, but you’re not bothered about slagging everybody else off though.’

How the guests reacted was perhaps the real indicator of how the show would go. All would be subjected to some element of ridicule, but their reaction would dictate how brutal the put-downs would be. Veteran cookery presenter Keith Floyd actually said it was the most enjoyable show he’d been on, despite getting berated for his drinking and failed businesses. But at the other end of the scale came arguably her most famous interview, when she welcomed, in the loosest possible terms, foul-mouthed comic Bernard Manning, by now very rarely accepted into primetime television. Bernard was the second of two guests, Richard Wilson, at the height of Victor Meldrew’s popularity, having shuffled along the sofa after his inquisition.

In true Mrs Merton style, she heralded the arrival of Bernard with a public health warning at the start of the show before announcing, ‘we can put him off no longer’ and welcoming him to the stage. There was an unnerving air immediately when Wilson, upon being asked how he was, said, ‘excellent…let’s hope it stays that way.’

Manning was asked if he was racist, which he freely admitted to, and later when somebody said that Manning had picked them up when their car had broken down and would he have stopped if he had been black, he quite freely said no. Manning and Wilson ended up having a straight out argument, seemingly because Wilson at the start of the show had said, ‘Bernard who?’ when Mrs Merton warned him he would be joining them, rather destroying Manning’s suggestion that it’s people’s own issue if they get offended by his humour. No wonder therefore that Mrs Merton asked him, ‘who do you vote for now Hitler’s Dead?’

After three series during which the programme was moved from BBC2 to BBC1 because of its success, The Mrs Merton Show was taken to Vegas where it rather failed to ignite. The third of the three shows there was a mockumentary of her and her collective pensioner audience touring the town, and the apparent failure of the USA versions was seized upon by critic Gary Bushell, who slated the efforts, so fair play to him for agreeing to appear in the fourth series as a guest. There were doubtless some genuine feelings as she introduced him as Beelzebub and described him as the most hated man in Britain, having just overtaken Saddam Hussain.

The Mrs Merton Show ended in 1998. Aherne had begun to tire of the format, but sadly a spin-off sitcom, Mrs Merton and Malcolm, failed to match its success, although her next effort of course hit all the right notes in The Royle Family. Aherne’s lifelong struggles with illness and addiction were well documented, so the cheery theme tune to The Mrs Merton Show in which we were encouraged to ‘let the happiness begin ‘cause Mrs Merton’s here again to share the joy that’s in her heart throughout the world’ is tinged with sadness now, Mrs Merton’s creator having died at just 52 years of age. But while The Royle Family is understandably recognised as her defining success, The Mrs Merton Show is a gloriously acerbic piece of nostalgic fun, with a good few celebrities rightly brought down to earth with a bump.