Clement Freud RIP

Time’s up.

Ali Bongo RIP

An ultra-brief bit of business that doesn’t really do justice to the man’s ultra-brilliance, but hey, he’s sporting white gloves, gets into a tug of war with the volunteer, and there’s Anita Harris “looking very Chinese”.

Wendy Richard RIP

In happier times, as they always say, with Christopher Cazenove, Peter Jeffrey and Jakki Brambles.

Tony Hart RIP

No more, please. Too many chunks of childhood have already been lost this year to warrant such a rate of expiry persisting any longer.

It’s not fair. January is a barren enough month as it is. To have four masters of the crystal bucket vanish in a mere seven days…it’s just not on. This virtual black armband is starting to lose resonance. How can you celebrate the way things were if you’re stuck only ever having to commemorate it instead?

Of the latest casualty, despite no longer here in any physical sense, the very least you can say is that Tony Hart’s spirit lives on. It lives on in anyone who ever used a wooden stick to carve a giant face on a sandy beach; anyone who ever added a pair of eyes, hands and feet to that superfluous blob of plasticine in the school artroom; anyone who ever borrowed the family Pritt Stick, Copydex or Gloy Gum to doodle the outline of something on a bit of paper, shower the paper with glitter, then tip the paper on its side to reveal…a glittery doodle; anyone who ever filled a used washing-up bottle with paint, suspended it upside down by string, pricked a tiny hole in the lid then let it swing back and forth all over the back of an old bit of wallpaper; anyone who ever covered a sheet of paper with a rainbow of Crayola, then covered that with a layer of black crayon, then used a toothpick to scrape through the black residue and create magical multi-coloured houses, clouds and animals; and anyone who saw other people, people like them, getting their drawings shown on national television and felt moved to try and do the same.

Everyone, basically. His spirit lives on in every single one of us.

John Mortimer RIP

Not been the best of weeks.

Euston Road, March 1978:

Patrick McGoohan RIP

Be seeing you.

David Vine RIP

Farewell to the guv’nor.

Superstars, July 1983: the man grills Brian Hooper while Stuart Matthews, David Wilkie, Lynn Davies and Conrad Bartelski look on.

RIP 2008

A salute to a few TV Cream heroes who have died this year.

There’s a higher quality version over here.

Charlie Brooker on Oliver Postgate

His finest hour.

Bob Spiers RIP

It’s turning into a miserable Christmas.

Oliver Postgate RIP

Goodnight Major Clanger.

Jack Scott RIP

Outlook: grim.

Geoffrey Perkins RIP

There’s a tribute to the great man over on your new-look Off The Telly.

Bill Cotton RIP

This is truly sad news.

Bill Cotton was one of the absolute greats: a shameless showman, a true populist, a scheduling wizard, a variety stalwart, an inspiration and mentor to thousands, and damn near responsible for every show TV Cream holds dear.

He seemed to have been around forever, a vital link with the traditions and practices upon which the best of British telly was built, but still holding forth and dispensing pearls of wry and witty wisdom long after retirement. It’s horrible to think of the world without him.

Forget all latterday pretenders to the throne, all latecomers to the crystal bucket, all modern day broadcasting suits and nabobs and bean-counters: Bill Cotton was and always will be your real, textbook, genuine TV hero.

There’s now a proper tribute on the site.

Terence Rigby RIP

Checking out for the last time…

Bryan Cowgill RIP

It’s not proving a good year for legendary TV executives.

Charles Wheeler RIP

This is really very upsetting.

Humphrey Lyttelton RIP

Devastatingly sad news.

Brian Wilde RIP

Sharing a bill with Paul Scofield. Or, as he would no doubt prefer it:

BRIAN WILDE
and Paul Scofield

Anthony Minghella RIP

Only slightly overshadowed by the death of Captain Birds Eye.