A Comedy On This Day: Q9 (22 July 1980)

 Normally, Ed Welch's musical spot midway through an episode of Q9 comes as a welcome relief from Milligan's continual manic state. But for this final episode of the series they're trying something different... a song with lyrics by Milligan is sung by Anna Raven, a young woman with no other credits to her name. The song is arranged and sung as an emphatic ballad (think Charles Aznavour), but Milligan's lyrics are extremely verbose. I suppose that the intended effect of the words is moving whimsy, but that would be better conveyed through a much lighter arrangement.

 As always, the brief cutaways to the studio audience are the most interesting (and certainly the least forced) parts of this programme. Not everyone is having a marvellous time -

 You can see where unfortunate girlfriends have been dragged along to this ordeal by their fan boyfriends –

A Comedy On This Day: Q9 (8 July 1980)

 This series always perks up when you get to the filmed bits, which tend to be well-constructed visual jokes told in an orchestrated sequence, such as the sports day for prisoners in this episode. Back in the studio, though, its taken up with the usual three or four sketches that drag aimlessly on, with the cast stood in a line in their wacky costumes sharing puns and the star laughing at his own jokes... I know which person in the studio audience most accurately reflects my response to this.

 This week, Ed Welch sings a moving ballad in the Clifford T. Ward style, accompanied by a string quartet. Called 'Eleanor', it must be a tribute to his daughter, illustrated by a lot of still pictures of babies. In the context of this programme, it's very earnest sincerity is incongruous.

A Comedy On This Day: Q9 (1 July 1980)

 Q9 incorporates the studio audience into the programme quite a lot, giving us an insight into the sort of people who would go to a Spike Milligan studio recording forty years ago.

 They look like long-term followers of Milligan who know what sort of thing to expect, rather than speculative bookers, I think. It’s slightly unfortunate that they're aware of being recorded and are all looking up at the monitors. The worse the jokes that Milligan tells, the more enthusiastically they respond.

  Milligan's resident musical guest, Ed Welch, performs a Gilbert O'Sullivan-type song about things getting better. Something as composed and prepared as a non-funny song comes as a calming relief in the middle of half an hour of thrown-together material performed in a constant manic state, although perhaps Ed Welch doesn't exactly exude the polished charisma of an established musical star.