ABC Television - ABC2 - Funny As: Simon Amstell

[Source]

Funny As: Simon Amstell

9:30pm Saturday, June 15 2013

Simon Amstell: Numb

Synopsis

English comedian, television presenter, screenwriter and actor, Simon Amstell is best known for his roles as former co-host of Popworld, former host of Never Mind the Buzzcocks and co-writer and star of the sitcom Grandma's House.

This one-off special is a performance of Simon's stand-up show, Numb, which he toured to sell-out audiences around the UK and Ireland in 2012, as well as Australia and, more recently, Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York.

Recorded specially for BBC Four at TV Centre, it's a stripped-down, intimate performance, with no set and minimal lighting - a painfully raw, honest and deeply funny exploration of disconnection and loneliness.

Simon Amstell on Craig Ferguson

Simon Amstell - Solo Show in New York

[Source]

May 31, 2012, 10:50 am
British Comedian Simon Amstell Bringing Solo Show to New York
By DAVE ITZKOFF

Richard Grassie

In Britain, the comedian Simon Amstell stars on his own series, “Grandma's House,”
and has hosted the game show “Never Mind the Buzzcocks.”

In America, the British comedian Simon Amstell may not yet have the name recognition of Eddie Izzard or Billy Connolly, but a New York producer who helped break those better-known names in the United States is betting that he'll be the latest stand-up to find success on the opposite side of the Atlantic.

On Thursday, the producer Arnold Engelman said that his WestBeth Entertainment company will present Mr. Amstell's new one-man show “Numb” at Theater 80 in Manhattan's East Village for a five-week run starting July 10.

Mr. Amstell, 32, a floppy-haired London-born comedian with a gentle, self-deprecating style (and, some would say, a passing resemblance to the “Social Network” star Jesse Eisenberg) is known in Britain for his semi-autobiographical BBC2 television series “Grandma's House” and for having hosted the comedy game show “Never Mind the Buzzcocks.”

Mr. Engelman has previously produced solo shows featuring the British performers Mr. Izzard and Mr. Connolly as well as American talents like Sandra Bernhard, John Cameron Mitchell and Margaret Cho at the defunct Westbeth Theater Center. He said in years past he had seen Mr. Amstell at festivals in Edinburgh and Montreal but was not won over by his material until recently.

“You could see this incredible growth of a comedian,” Mr. Engelman said in a telephone interview. “He has a lot more confidence and he feels better about his material.”

Though perhaps not too much confidence: citing Mr. Amstell's “nebbishy” presence, Mr. Engelman also compared him to Mr. Eisenberg and to Woody Allen in his early stand-up days.

“Everybody isn't 6-foot-2 and stunningly gorgeous,” Mr. Engelman said. “But you don't feel sorry for him as a comedian. His story isn't about, O woe is me. It's just telling a story of life from his point of view.”

Mr. Engelman said he could see Mr. Amstell's new show appealing to younger audiences, adding numerous caveats. “I don't consider myself old, and I get nervous whenever I talk about this age thing,” Mr. Engelman said, “because then everybody looks at me and says, ‘How old are you?' And of course I refuse to answer that question.”

Citing a line from Mr. Izzard, Mr. Engelman added, “As Eddie would say, ‘I'm young up here.'”

Simon Amstell: 'Dysfunction is my career' - The Guardian

[Source]

Simon Amstell: 'Dysfunction is my career'

Put downs. Piss takes. Come backs. Simon Amstell can hand it out, but can he take it? Simon Hattenstone talks to the presenter-turned-standup about celebrity, upsetting his family and whether he's got any material left for his therapist

---

Simon Hattenstone
The Guardian, Friday 9 March 2012 23.00 GMT
 
 

---

Simon Amstell: 'All comedy comes from pain, but it should eventually be funny. I
don't see the point of doing it unless it comes from pain.' Photograph: Nick Ballon

Simon Amstell made his name as a rude boy in TV shows such as Popworld and Never Mind The Buzzcocks by taking the piss out of pop stars. He then tired of that, went away and remade his name as a neurotic boy – the star (and co-writer) of a TV sitcom, Grandma's House, about a young man called Simon who makes his name on TV taking the piss out of pop stars, gets tired of it and is desperate to find his soul and make it as an actor. Grandma's House is self-referential post-modernism gone mad. It's also very funny – with its multiple Yiddishisms, the mother who gets such nachus from the celebrity her son despises, the adulterer father who might or might not have had sex with a lover in a canoe before finding God and becoming a frummer, and an extended family of whingers and fruitcakes.

Around the same time Grandma's House came out, Amstell did a standup tour. What is most noticeable about watching them is how similar they are. It's hard to work out if the standup was a dry run for the sitcom or vice versa. In both he complains of existential nausea ("People congratulate me for being mean"); his self-loathing is matched only by his self-love ("I am officially a claustrophobic narcissist"); he is obsessed with skinny, screwed-up men ("I'm a big fan of Jesus Christ; there's no one more thin or vulnerable than Jesus Christ"); and he relates the times he mooned at his grandmother and the compassion course he went on to help him understand his family better. What seems indisputable is that both his stage show and sitcom draw heavily on his life.

We meet in a vegan cafe in north London – his choice. It's a cold day and Amstell, 32, looks perfectly Amstellish – unlikely bonnet, woolly jumper, formal trousers and shoes, his own brand of geeky cool. He orders us falafel and salad, and I ask whether it really was self-loathing that made him leave Never Mind The Buzzcocks. No, he says, it was boredom. He knew the format, guests knew the format; they waited for him to be rude, he'd be rude, and that was that. It became formulaic, safe. "The problem was it had stopped being shocking. I would say to a pop star, so you've got a new song out, and they'd sit there saying, 'Go on, what you going to say? What?' And at that point you have to leave the show, don't you, because they were just waiting for the jokes. Whereas before I was sneaking them in and they were like, 'Oh my God! Why are you saying this?'"

He sneaked in any number of classics, such as, "Jordan's third favourite tit and second favourite twat – it's Peter Andre!" or, "Preston appeared on Celebrity Big Brother then married the winner, Chantelle. Preston was worried it would alienate hardcore Ordinary Boys fans, but luckily neither of them were in the country – or existed."

Amstell was inspired by Mrs Merton and Dame Edna Everage, characters who interviewed celebrities, often ridiculing them in the process. In a way, he says, he regarded himself as a character or construct, and that's why he found it easy to diss his guests. The confrontation with Preston ended with the singer walking off the show when Amstell started quoting from Chantelle's memoir.

Ever since he was 13, Amstell had wanted to go into telly. He grew up in Essex, his father ran a courier and minicab firm, and his mum dreamed of singing. As a teenager, he and his brother turned a spare room into a DIY studio where they'd make their own shows and act out being professionals. "I loved The Big Breakfast. I loved seeing floor managers and clipboards and earpieces; when I got my first job, it was such a thrill to be wearing a microphone and have an earpiece!"

In 1993 he made his first TV appearance, as a contestant on the C4 gameshow GamesMaster; he popped up again in his early teens doing a Dame Edna impression on Good Morning With Anne And Nick, and as a budding magician on Family Catchphrase. By 18, he was presenting on children's TV station Nickelodeon – from which he has said he was sacked for being "sarcastic and mean to children" – and by the age of 21 Amstell had established himself as the irreverent interviewer on Popworld. "The way to do it was to be the opposite of whatever the pop shows were at the time. Pop shows were bland, and I did not want Popworld to be another bland pop show."

Was he also inspired by Dennis Pennis, the character created by Paul Kaye who was fabulously rude to celebrities? Amstell balks. Oh no, he says, they couldn't be more different. "He just sort of stabbed them and ran away. I'm more into stabbing them, then just smiling and seeing the reaction. Stabbing them and seeing them bleed, then smiling as if it wasn't me." He knows his butter-wouldn't-melt face helped. And the more experience he gained, the more innocence he feigned. "I think I learned on Buzzcocks that something more angelic and less spiky is actually funnier and cleverer. You can take the piss in that 'Oh gosh, I don't know what I'm saying, I do apologise' way, you can be flirty and funny and sweet and lovely."

And yet the character Simon in Grandma's House hates the fact that he became famous for mocking people. Did it really not bother him in real life? "No, what bothered me was seeing people on television pretending to like each other and fake smiling and all being polite and telling each other how great they all were. All anyone wants is the truth, right?"

I'm not sure I believe him when he says his reputation didn't bother him. I ask whom he offended most and he becomes rather defensive. "I don't know. Haha!" He laughs like a hyena – particularly when he disagrees with you. "I don't think I upset anyone. They're all fine." But Preston was horrified by his treatment. "He's probably all right now. It's been four years. He must be fine now."

I bet he's still in therapy.

"We're all in therapy… What's nice now is that all my output is self-deprecating. Nobody is getting upset apart from me."

I'm not too sure about that, either. His family, as portrayed in Grandma's House, would certainly have cause for complaint – that's what makes it so funny. If the sitcom is anything to go by, they all seem a good sandwich short of a picnic. Ah, Amstell says, it's easy to assume that art directly reflects life. In fact, he explains, things are always more complicated, and this isn't a literal representation of his family.

OK, then. Is his mother as loudly proud of him being on telly as his fictional mother? He looks sheepish. "She does like to see me on TV a lot, yes." Does she like the show? "She found it slightly weird but was thrilled with it." Did his dad really have an affair and leave his mother? Yes, he says, there might be some truth in that. And did he really become ultra-orthodox? He nods again. "He's about as religious as you can be."

In Grandma's House, after Simon has been on his compassion course, he invites his father round so he can apologise for blaming him for destroying the family. Did that really happen? No, no, no, not at all, he says – well, not quite like that. But yes, as it happens, he did go on the compassion course. "They get everyone between the ages of 18 and 26 to stand up, and then they say, look at these vulnerable kids who've just stood up; that's probably the age your parents were when they had you. And you blame them for everything in your life. Well, look at them; they're just stupid, fallible kids; just kids. The idea is you then think, 'Oh, I've been quite harsh to them' and they encourage you to phone them and apologise for blaming them."

The wonderful thing is, he says, that for all their past problems, and for all that his comedy focuses on the negative side of their relationship, his father enjoys it. "It's amazing that, with his religious belief, he can come and watch me do standup and watch something on television that depicts elements of him."

It's great that your mum and dad like Grandma's House, I say, but I have read that your aunt (the insufferable whinger) is no longer talking to you. He looks genuinely shocked. "No! That's not been written anywhere, has it? No. I spoke to her a while ago. She's, er, yeah…"

How does she feel about it? "The aunt in the sitcom is based on a few different people." How many sisters has his mum got? "My mum has got one sister," he concedes. Did his portrayal of her cause any issues? "None that weren't already there." So she was upset with him? "What if she was already upset with me?" Why was she so upset with him? "Haha!" he hyena laughs. "Through writing this sitcom, I've realised when you write something and people relate to it, the greater good of, 'Oh my God I have an aunt like that and to see it was healing' is more significant than upsetting someone who was already quite upset. And when I am writing this, it is a fictional world, and I am in control of it, and if we can be bold enough to call it art, it's art… And this is an interview where I'm promoting a couple of things and it feels tacky and unfair to talk about real people in a way that it doesn't seem unfair to fictionalise certain elements of characters. That's the difficulty in answering your questions as honestly as possible."

Amstell points out some of the crucial differences between the series and real life. In the show he's an only son, whereas in fact he's the oldest of four kids with three half-sisters. And there's his financial situation. "In the new series I have to sell my flat and move in with Grandma because I wouldn't take on any presenting work, and I'm desperately trying to be an actor." So he's still got his flat? "Yes, in real life." And is he doing any presenting work? "No." And would he? "Not at the moment. There are occasions when I miss interviewing people." Like now, for instance? "Yes, this is no fun at all. I want to ask the questions. I want the tape recorder."

The poor thing is visibly squirming. One of the most surprising things about Amstell is that his introverted, self-flagellating sitcom and standup character is so different from Amstell the insouciant TV host. The Amstell I meet today appears to be an uneasy mix of the two – one moment confident and incisive, the next twitchy and diffident.

He says both sitcom and standup have been a form of therapy. In writing and performing the material, it has forced him to look at himself, and in doing so he has shed much of his neurosis. "Part of the funniness of me in the sitcom is this anxious, non-confrontational, lost human being who doesn't know how to assert himself, and because I'm aware now that guy is funny because he's an idiot, I don't want to be that guy any more, so as soon as we finished filming I had a bit of a haircut and I was able to be a bit assertive about something. Now I just want to be able to exist in the world in a relaxed, non-neurotic way and to be able to use my neurosis in a performance."

Which sounds great, in theory. But he knows there's a problem with that. If he becomes entirely functional, he's worried the well of his comedy might dry up. "Dysfunction is also my career, so what I need to do is make the dysfunction a choice. It can't just be a constant… I want being funny to be something that I can just use rather than something I need."

One review of the live show said that for comedy it made painful watching. "Well, it all comes from pain, but it should eventually be funny. I don't see the point of doing comedy unless it comes from pain." Is he worried that he'll run out of angst? Has he got enough problems? He smiles. "Yes, I've got enough problems."

But you seem quite together today, I say.

Now he looks petrified. "Do I? No, I'm still working through some stuff." Such as? "I'd like to… I'd like to…" Then he decides to keep it to himself. "When we finish at 4pm, I'm going to my actual therapy session. So maybe I should save some of this. Well, my new [standup] show is called Numb because it's about wanting to feel more. There's a scene where I just scream at the mother character, 'You've made me numb!' It's about a feeling of disconnectedness, a feeling of wanting to love more, wanting to exist in the moment, not perceiving things from the outside but being in them and fully engaged. And wanting to connect with people fully and not put up a wall. Part of my defence mechanism is humour, so sometimes when I'm being funny, it's just as a way of stopping people from getting in."

He tells a story about running along the Champs Elysées with a group of people at 3am and how everybody else is having a fantastic time while he's just thinking this will make a good memory. "I need to get from that guy who's thinking this will be a good memory, I must take a photo of this, to just being there with those people."

That inability to enjoy things for what they are sounds like classic depression, I say. He looks disappointed, and does exactly what he's just talked about – masks his feelings in a joke. "Oh, no. Does it have to be classic depression? Can't it just be a tiny little bit of depression?"

One of the things that makes him most miserable is the thought of repeating himself. Hence his early retirement from Never Mind The Buzzcocks in 2009 and his fascination with acting. It's fresh, and he doesn't understand the rules. As with presenting, he says, he has learned that when he tries too hard, it doesn't work. It's hard to tell how good (or bad) an actor he is when he's just being his mumbling, emotionally-constipated self in Grandma's House. He certainly can't compete with the rest of a brilliant cast of comic actors, including Linda Bassett, Rebecca Front, Samantha Spiro, James Smith and Geoffrey Hutchings, who died in 2010 just after making the first series. When Caitlin Moran reviewed the show, she said that although she had always wanted to marry Amstell, despite him being gay and teetotal, he was guilty of probably "the worst acting yet done, for cash, on British television".

He bristles when I mention it."Haha! Wow! Well, we make all these jokes in the first series and in the second. In the trailer for the first episode of the first series, Tanya, the mother, says, 'What are you going to do, leaving your job?' and I say, 'I might act or write a bit' and she says, 'You can't act.' Yeah. So we'd already made that joke."

Does it hurt when somebody else says it? "I kind of wonder what do I do with it. I think I become numb to it because it's always so extreme; either, 'I love you' or, 'I hate you, I hope you get cancer.' You can't really get into either of those. Hahahahaha!"

He tells me how much he enjoyed and learned from his recent appearance as a psychiatrist in the British film Black Pond.

I didn't like you in that, I tell Amstell.

He looks at me, surprised.

Actually, I say, I thought you were rubbish in it.

"Really? Haha! Wow! You're just going to say that out loud in a vegan restaurant." It's a great comeback from Amstell, but he does look hurt, so I apologise and ask if he thought that was horribly rude of me. "I suppose it is quite rude, but maybe you think because I've been cheeky in the past to people, it's all right."

In his recent writing, Amstell has left no area untouched – from the acting ambitions to his love life. One of the funniest bits of his shtick is his constant search for the impossibly handsome, dangerously skinny actor with soul and gravitas and, if possible, the words "high art" striped across his heart. I ask whether he has a boyfriend. "I don't know how to answer this question, either, because I talk about it very openly and honestly on stage, and talking about it in an interview feels like the sort of thing celebrities do because what they do artistically is not interesting enough, so they have to talk about their personal lives."

But Simon, you are a celebrity. In Grandma's House, your mum loves the fact you're a celeb who takes the piss out of pop stars for a living.

"No, but that's an inaccurate perception."

But it's one that obviously weighs heavy on you?

"I'll talk about it on this tour. Come and see me do some standup. I'll tell you all about my love life. The various problems."

Have you got a boyfriend at the moment?

"Why is this important? I feel it's only valid once there's some artistic value to it, once some laughter has been added to it. Otherwise, it's just tittle-tattle. It's the sort of thing I think a celebrity answers with no qualms. I'd rather leave it. In the same way I don't Twitter because I'd rather save things up till I've got a show. I'm not interested in giving it away for free."

It's time for Amstell to go to his therapy session. I think he'll have plenty to talk about. As we leave, the waitress walks up to him. "Hi," she says sweetly. "Could I have your autograph? I'm not used to meeting celebrities." He signs her paper graciously, and looks utterly crestfallen.

• Simon Amstell's 2012 tour Numb starts on 5 May. For details, go to simonamstell.co.uk, or visit Simon Amstell Gets Connected at the Guardian.

Simon Amstell Interviewed by Tim Key

Clip: SimonAmstellNumb

Simon Amstell talks about coming out

[Source]

Coming Out Simon Amstell's view Why do it? Are you ready? Who first? Do's and don'ts Family Friends Relationships Meeting People Sex Bullying Information for parents Youth Groups Links

'I sat down and told my parents, they both said they already knew. My mum found out the number of a local youth group and I have been going every week since' Simon Amstell on coming out Award-winning comedian Simon Amstell - who presented TV series Never Mind the Buzzcocks and Popworld and co-wrote and starred in sitcom Grandma's House - talked to YGM about how he dealt with coming out, sexual health and sex. YGM: When did you first realise you were gay? Simon Amstell (SA): It was around puberty that I realised but I only came out when I was 20. YGM: Who was the first person you told? SA: I had just got back from Miami where I had a 'finding myself'-type holiday and then I told my brother and my mother. She was quite shocked funnily enough. She's cool now but it took her a really long time to come to terms with it. My brothers and sister didn't really care but my father still has issues which we are working on. YGM: How did your friends react? SA: My friends were alright, in fact I didn't bother coming out to them, I just brought my first boyfriend along to a night out. There was no issue which was nice because I didn't want to make a big statement and I didn't want it to be the only thing people focussed on. YGM: What were your experiences at school like? SA: It was alright, I can't remember ever being bullied, I was still very much in denial – thinking that I could just throw away Attitude magazine and I wouldn't be gay anymore. I never for one minute thought that I would come out at school, even if I had been completely sure that I was gay I wouldn't have. I guess the problem with schools used to be Section 28 which stopped anyone mentioning sexuality. I was aware of gay teachers in my school – I don't know how - I guess the gossip just got passed down from year to year. The only time there was any mention of sexuality at school was when a theatre group came in and did a play about various youth issues and there was one gay character. YGM: What were your first impressions of the gay scene? SA: Well because it had been so long, [London gay club] Heaven was indeed heaven! I thought the scene was brilliant. I could be myself and you see all sorts of different people like drag queens wandering around. Now I find it quite nice to go to mixed places, I think 'gay' should be related to 'cool'. YGM: When was your first gay experience? SA: About a year before I went to Miami I got the Eurostar to Paris. I thought I could find a gay club there. So I snogged a guy in a club hoping that would end my confusion. Was I just sexually attracted to men, or was it more about the scariness of being attracted to men that made it more intense than being attracted to women? I could look at girls and think they were pretty but that was it. After Paris I didn't do anything about it for about a year. I was working at Nickelodeon at the time and just thought it was a cliché to be another gay kids TV presenter. I went to Miami when I was working at Popworld. I met a guy at a gay club and ended up going back to his place and that was it. He became my first boyfriend - I was with him for a year and he taught me everything about being gay. I think once I felt really confident and happy I didn't really need him anymore but he was great and I was very lucky to have him as my first boyfriend. YGM: What was your understanding around sexual health back then? SA: Well he was really good about that and let me know about condoms, otherwise at that point I could probably have been talked into anything. But now sexual health is so important, I went for my first sexual health check-up after I broke up with him. Even though I had no reason to worry about anything it was still a relief, at least I got it out of the way. YGM: So you have had positive experiences of being in a relationship. What are the positives of being in a relationship and of being single? SA: After I broke up with my first boyfriend I thought: ‘Hey I am single now,’ and so I went a bit crazy for about a year. After a while I thought: ‘Actually I want a boyfriend,' then had a few relationships that didn't last very long. Now I'm really not interested in one-night stands at all - dates for me are just better. It's nice to know someone before the morning after, there is nothing worse than waking up with someone and realising you don't like them! YGM: The entertainment industry has a reputation for being quite popular with gay men as a career choice. Do you find that? SA: The truth is when I worked at Nickelodean I was the only person in that studio at that point who was out, although a few people came out after I left. I thought that once I left school and got into the media, everyone would be gay and it would be fine but that wasn’t the case, which was really quite odd. I thought it would be a complete contrast to school. When I started Popworld I hadn't really accepted my sexuality myself. It was always awkward to come out even though it was at the time when the whole world was turning gay. Graham Norton was the most powerful comedian on TV, Brian Dowling had won Big Brother – it seemed silly for me to be panicking about it – the whole world loved the homos! YGM: It's so different now with people like Will Young and Brian Dowling who have become so popular, the nation voted for them to win huge competitions because they liked them. SA: That was a very symbolic thing. YGM: Do you ever see yourself settling down and doing the whole civil partnership/gay wedding thing? SA: Even before I came out, I had never been into the idea of marriage, never seen it as a thing to aspire to really. It's a good excuse for a party though! YGM: Last question. Why do you think there aren't more gay men out in the public eye? SA: I guess because the people in charge of their careers are just too worried about the reaction. I hate the fact that people in the public eye are out in their private lives but restrain themselves when talking publicly. Once you have come to terms with it yourself there should be no reason why you can't be open about it in everyday life. If only everyone knew how many male celebrities were pretending to like ladies! This article was last reviewed on: 27/10/11 Date due for next review: 27/10/13

Click the button below if you want a quick exit

Do Nothing Live - Simon Amstell

Finally watched DVD "Do Nothing Live".

There are some clips on YouTube.

Simon Amstell Interview

T4 interview by Miquita Oliver and Nick Grimshaw.

Miquita and Simon were presenters of Channel 4 music show Popworld from 2000 to 2006.

Simon is so cool and cute!

Simon Amstell Interview BBC Breakfast 2010

Noel Fielding criticises Simon Amstell

[Source]

Noel Fielding says Simon Amstell 'ruined' Buzzcocks
Thursday 4th November 2010 @ 12pm

According to The Sun, Never Mind The Buzzcocks team captain Noel Fielding is claiming that ex-host Simon Amstell has "ruined the show".

The Mighty Boosh star, the musical panel show's newest team captain, thinks Amstell's "cruel jibes" have made guests reluctant to appear for fear of being ridiculed. He gave the example of ex-Spice Girl Mel B who, he says, needed a lot of persuasion to appear in the latest run. Fielding told the paper: "She was terrified, like we were going to really rib her. The problem is, I think Amstell ruined it for everyone. Everyone thinks they'll get ripped to shreds."

Amstell, who won multiple awards for hosting the show, is widely regarded as having rejuvenated the quiz when he took over in 2007. He shocked fans when he quit in 2009 to work on developing Grandma's House, his BBC2 sitcom. Fielding joined the show as a regular in the series following Amstell's departure, although he did appear on screen with the host for three episodes in 2006 when he stood in for Bill Bailey as team captain. During these episodes, some viewers noted a tension between Amstell and Fielding, as can be seen in the following exchange:

Phill Jupitus, who has been a team captain on the show since its inception in 1996, revealed in his book published this summer that he almost quit the show in 2008 due to Amstell's verbal attacks on guests. He said: "It struck me with Simon that people were being booked especially to have the piss taken out of them in a very overt fashion. Mark Lamarr didn't book people to rag on them, it was just in the flow of the show that people suddenly went a bit weird and Mark could turn on them. It became something else with Simon and started to get a bit wearing."

Amstell's most infamous moment as host is arguably when he caused Ordinary Boys singer Preston to storm off following jokes about his wife's autobiography (2 minutes into this clip):

Never Mind The Buzzcocks is now re-building a 'cosier' image using a series of guest hosts, but not everyone is a fan of the new format. Mark Ronson and Catherine Tate, the first two hosts in the latest series, have been criticised as boring and lacking the required presentation skills. One reviewer commented: "Mark Ronson has an incredibly dull voice and when doing the interlinking piece-to-camera sections he couldn't hide the fact that he was clearly reading off a screen, so the majority of jokes fell flat." Whilst the Metro said: "Catherine Tate was on typical grating, nasal form. Come back, Simon Amstell, all is forgiven."

Noel Fielding told The Sun that he thinks Terry Wogan is the best of the new guest hosts. He said: "He was professional, funny, quicker than anyone else on the show. He shook everyone's hand, he knew everyone's name. It was pretty mind-blowing actually."

However, in what is seen as a shift back to the old style, Jack Dee hosts tonight's show and - according to the previews - repeatedly jokes about guests Jedward, with barbed quips including calling the X-Factor duo "the greatest musical collaboration since Lennon met Chapman". Frankie Boyle, a comedian not known for a gentle manner, is also set to host the show later in the series.

---

It shocked me when I read it first. I love Simon Amstell. But also I like Noel Fielding. I found this article again and I realised that I haven't picked it up for this blog, so I put it on here. I set original date as usual.

Grandma's House, another article

Another article from gurdian.co.uk

Meet my Grandma's House co-writer, Simon Amstell: he's a self-obsessed so and so

Former Popworld and Buzzcocks presenter's new sitcom stars a fictionalised Simon Amstell. But it's nothing like Curb Your Enthusiasm, no way, says co-creator Dan Swimer

Dan Swimer
The Guardian,Saturday 7 August 2010

Amstell delight: fictional Simon gets used to his fictional mum's front room. Photograph: Tiger Aspect

Firstly, by way of an apology, I ought to point out that the reason I'm writing this alone is definitely not because Simon is too lazy and self-important to do something as menial as penning a few words about his latest product himself. It's because he is a "genius recluse" who's much too busy being both reclusive and a genius to go grovelling to Guide readers in a bid to promote his new TV show.

I just hope this doesn't become like the Seinfeld episode where George and Elaine go to the cinema together and find that without their mutual friend Jerry they have nothing to say to one another. Well, I'm aware we don't know each other, and we're both disappointed that Simon (the "genius recluse" – he makes me call him this) was unable to join us, but let's at least try to get through this, shall we?

While discussing Grandma's House I might mention other, far better, sitcoms without making comparisons. This is in no way to induce you to believe it to be anywhere near as good; absolutely not. Furthermore, you are way too clever to be fooled into allowing me to create a subliminal connection between some show you haven't seen and a lot of classic sitcoms. To be honest, I'd rather just stick to discussing Grandma's House, as it's so mind-blowingly unique you can't compare it to anything.

Besides, this show's nothing like Seinfeld, starring comedian Jerry Seinfeld playing a comedian whose name is Jerry. Or Curb Your Enthusiasm, about the creator of Seinfeld, Larry David, who if I recall is played by a man called Larry. Nor is it anything like Hancock's Half Hour, Roseanne or It's Garry Shandling's Show. No way. For starters, this is about a guy called Simon who used to present the TV shows Popworld and Never Mind The Buzzcocks. It just happens to feature the actual former presenter of Popworld and Buzzcocks – a guy called Simon – playing the lead character, whose name is Simon. Anyway, you know when presenters become a bit famous and they're invariably given a substandard sitcom which they spend the next few years struggling to make people forget about? Well Simon thought it best to avoid this, so instead we set about writing a good sitcom. It turns out this is quite difficult when you have no experience, unless writing the voice of a talking horse interviewing the Strokes on Popworld counts.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was to be our first and only rule: everything committed to paper should feel 100% authentic, rather than existing for comic effect
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So partly to guide us and partly because it was something inherent in the many brilliant sitcoms we wanted to emulate (but which it would seem crass to mention in this article), we decided to base everything in truth. This was to be our first and only rule: everything committed to paper should feel 100% authentic, rather than existing for comic effect. As rules go, this sounds like a pretty bloody good one, but in hindsight we might have made more headway if we'd added a couple of extra rules like, "Remember to include storylines", or, "Construct the episode from a number of distinct scenes rather than just one long conversation." But you learn as you go, right? Well, no, not really.

We figured that you pitch an idea, they commission the script, you shoot a pilot, and you're away. And that is indeed the process, give or take a draft or 70; a number of table reads; a pilot which flies straight on to the pile marked, "Hmmm, might work with a story"; a lot of arguing; hours – even days – of silence; and some actual crying. All in the space of four years. In our quest for truth, we managed to turn out a show about depression, death, and the pointlessness of existence (while also in our view being funny and brilliant). It tells the not totally untruthful tale of a guy who quits his glamorous TV-presenting job due to an underlying discomfort with himself, while his divorced mum shacks up with the most objectionable man on the planet, and his grandfather suspects he's probably dying.

All this truth stuff can become quite complicated, especially when the lead character is a fairly realistic portrayal of the actor playing him and writing his script. Obviously not everything in the show can have actually occurred in exactly the same way in real life, but that was the rod we made for our backs. So every reaction of Simon's character had to be a reaction we could envisage him having in real life. Otherwise how could we be certain it wouldn't feel fake, and not thrillingly realistic like, say, The Thick Of It? But does it have to be actually true, or just feel true? Does the actual Simon need to have actually said the line, or can it be the kind of thing the actual Simon might say in the situation, were it real? And round in circles you go, until you eventually snap and start screaming at your co–writer that he isn't "him" and vice versa. He's the actual person in front of you, while "he" exists only on the paper that you're screwing into a ball and trying to stuff into his mouth. Ultimately I resolved it by referring to Simon the character as "Simon", and Simon the person with whom I used to enjoy working and socialising as "you". Eventually it stopped being weird to look up from a moment of reading and remark to Simon, "Simon really is a self-obsessed prick isn't he?"

Anyway, we tried our best, we hope you enjoy it, and it's called Grandma's Office. Sorry, House. Grandma's House. It's about depression and death.

Simon Amstell Newsletter

Newsletter

simon amstell and dan swimer* have written a situation comedy.
simon amstell is acting in it.

while this clearly sounds like a terrible, terrible thing to have done, it may end up being something you regard as a good thing. really.

it is called grandma's house and can be seen on BBC2 monday 9th august 22.00.

this is a trailer.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nl92LeadNVs
if you are a facebook person, this is a facebook thing.
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Grandmas-House/140518655965947

Grandma's House on BBC2

Since Simon has left Never Mind The Buzzcockes, I haven't had any chance to see him on TV, but now he's back. It's planned only six episodes though, it's better than nothing.

Amstell's in the house
Simon Amstell takes on his first acting role in Grandma's House, which starts on BBC2 on Monday. The acerbic presenter talks to Lisa Williams about playing a version of his ‘idiotic' self, why he needed to leave Popworld and Never Mind the Buzzcocks, and why his mum will love the new show

Published: 05/08/2010

SIMON Amstell's mum might be cross to see that he hasn't eaten his greens. Instead, he has left them in a neat pile at the side of his plate and, as I walk in to meet him, he greets me saying: “Hello. Would you like some spinach? Or a mushroom?”

It's that kind of oddball humour which has made him famous. Sacked from children's channel Nickelodeon for being too sarcastic, in 2000 his superbly sharp tongue found a happy home on Channel 4's Popworld.

He and co-presenter Miquita Oliver broke the mould for TV interviews at the time by refusing to ask guests the standard questions about their music, preferring instead to tease the pop stars, and make them take part in silly stunts. Simon's ranged from the childish (asking Britney Spears to lick a battery, offering Gwen Stefani a piece of cheese) to the more controversial (flirting with reggae star Beenie Man), and some acts, such as The Kooks, refused to return to the show.

After six years on Popworld, Simon became the host of pop quiz Never Mind the Buzzcocks, taking over from the similarly acerbic Mark Lamarr and taking with him Popworld writer Dan Swimer.

While Never Mind the Buzzcocks was a new format for him, Simon found the cutting humour was the same (he made Preston of The Ordinary Boys walk out from filming after joking about his then wife) and quit after three years.

During our meeting, the most offensive thing about him is his vegetable dodging, otherwise the 30-year-old is gentle and self-deprecating, looking out cautiously from a mop of dark curls.

He was there to promote Grandma's House, a new family sitcom which he has co-written with Swimer. Set in a family house in Gants Hill, the suburb on London where Simon grew up, and exploring the eccentricities of a close-knit family, it will draw inevitable comparisons with the Manchester-set Royle Family.

“Will it?” asks Simon.

“It's probably just because it's in a living room the whole time, but we venture to the driveway as well, you do see a driveway,” he jokes.

On a more-serious note, Simon says the shows are quite different because Grandma's House has “more conflict and probably more story", but he acknowledges that a comparison with the Bafta-winning Royle Family is not such a bad thing.

“It was probably one of the last good ones, right? Or am I leaving something out?” he asks.

I mention Outnumbered and My Family.

“No, The Royle Family is the last good family sitcom in my mind,” he says mischievously.

Simon plays himself in the series, but he's not saying how closely his on-screen relatives resemble his own.

“I don't want to go into specifics because I quite like the idea of people wondering,” he says, thoughtfully.

In the first episode, he announces to his mum, played by The Thick of It's Rebecca Front, that he wants to leave his presenting job on an unnamed vitriolic television show to pursue something more meaningful.

The comedian admits that this reference is thinly-veiled.

“With both Popworld and Buzzcocks, I felt we were about to start repeating ourselves,” he says.

“Is this the more meaningful thing? I suppose so; I've always wanted to do something like this. Also, I realised I'd been taking the mickey out of pop stars for about eight years or something and I slowly realised that every time I was really just having a go at myself or my father or something. It feels a lot better for the soul, actually, attacking yourself rather than attacking innocent bystanders.”

Simon swears that the version of himself in Grandma's House is “quite close to me ? upsettingly so.”

He goes on: “When we were writing it, we realised we needed to take everything that was awful about me and put it into the show and so it's essentially me. Even when we'd finished it and I bought some new clothes and I thought ‘I won't be that idiot any more', I'm still that idiot.”

Some of the “idiotic” behaviour we witness in the show includes him refusing to warm to his mum's new boyfriend, Clive, played by Rebecca's The Thick of It co-star James Smith, and saying “what are you telling me for? I'm only 12,” when his grandad tells him he's got cancer.

His grandad, poignantly, is played by Geoffrey Hutchings, who died last month from a suspected viral infection.

Simon has only fond memories of Geoffrey, describing him as “very funny, and a fine actor”.

“I tended to shout and scream a lot if I was doing an emotional scene, or I'd meditate a bit to try to relax myself, and I saw, in one of the rushes when we were editing, Geoffrey saying to one of the guest stars: ‘Yeah, that's going to help',” he recalls.

Geoffrey's experience as an actor and the talent of the whole cast, including East is East actress Linda Basset, who plays Grandma, was helpful for Simon, as he admits he was nervous about taking on his first acting role.

“It was very scary and that's one of the reasons why I needed such a good cast, because then I'd be good at it maybe, with them around, or they'd detract from my ungood acting,” he says.

It would appear that Simon's self-effacement is also, like his onscreen cockiness, an act. But he claims that, in Grandma's House, in which he whines about being lonely and offers his thoughts on being Jewish and gay, he is his true self.

“I don't know if you could get much closer to exposing who I am. I think it's all there. There's nothing missing, to the point that I got a new therapist the other day and I thought of just sending her a few DVDs and telling her not to ask me any questions,” he says, joking, or at least, I think he's joking.

Watching Grandma's House will certainly be interesting for Simon's family, too, who might spot some of themselves in the stories on screen.

Simon's mum is a fan already.

“My mum likes it, but my mum likes anything on television, so she would have liked to see my face going ‘ra ra ra',” he says, pretending to growl.

But just wait until she finds out about the greens.

Source

An article from The Guardian

There's life after Simon Amstell for Never Mind The Buzzcocks – and it's funny

We go behind the scenes at the comedy music quiz, where it's all "flowers and unicorns" according to Noel Fielding

Priya Elan / The Guardian, Saturday 10 October 2009

Taking care of Buzzness: guests including Peter Serafinowicz and Newton Faulkner get miked-up backstage at Never Mind The Buzzcocks Photograph: Brian Ritchie/BBC

They are Googling "Alex James" in the production office of Never Mind The Buzzcocks. The Blur bassist is this week's guest presenter.

"How old is he?" asks a twentysomething member of the team. CLICK.

"Oh my god! Born in ... 68... He's well old!" she says scanning a web page. CLICK-CLICK.

"And his real name is Steven? He is so married, too ... Damn. But he doesn't look happy with it does he?" CLICK-CLICK-CLICK.

At the other end of the crowded room, a couple of producers iron out a few bits of the script.

"Is 'Googlebox' a word?"

They are brainstorming names for the former pop star lineup section of the show. This week it's ViX from Fuzzbox and they want names that play on "box".

A few furious scribblings out later, they've got it.

"Graham Box-on," says a producer, proud of his play on Alex James's sometime bandmate. "That's funny isn't it?"

We're here on the set of the third episode of the 23rd series of the panel show. Host Simon Amstell has departed since the last series because he wants "to concentrate on his stand-up" and the powers that be have decided that instead of a permanent replacement, a series of weekly guest hosts will better usher in the programme's new age.

"The thinking behind it was that we wanted to give airtime to some new comic talent who wouldn't otherwise get the chance," says the show's producer, Stuart Mather.

In that vein they've got the likes of stand-ups Jack Whitehall and Rhod Gilbert to fill Amstell's rather large comedy shoes.

"It's also really hard to book pop stars in advance …"

While Mather is keen to play down Amstell's hold on the show, he admits that his Bafta award-nominated tenure changed Buzzcocks forever.

"Our demographic changed with Simon," he says "He showed you could do things in a TV format that you couldn't do before."

There was an outcry when he departed, with posters on web forums wondering how the show would continue without the comic ("I'm done with Buzzcocks," said one), who, as he did on C4's Popworld, made his ability to cut musicians down to size a defining characteristic of the show.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Everyone is chipping in … I think the show is working better' - Noel Fielding
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So how has it changed the on-screen vibe?

"It's like a Mad Hatter's tea party now," Noel Fielding thinks. The Mighty Boosh star is another new element, replacing Bill Bailey as a team captain. "Everyone is chipping in," he says. "And I think that the show is working better for that actually, instead of the focus being on Simon having a go at someone in particular. He's genius at that, but sometimes it makes some of the musicians a bit tense and they don't open up."

Fielding cites last week's appearance by burlesque pop star Paloma Faith as a prime example. "When she started she was a bit weird. But then as the show went on she became funnier and funnier. Everyone ended up loving her," he says. "I don't think she would have been given that chance if Simon was still here."

Still, some of the show's best moments were the ones where Amstell baited the stars. Producer Mather recalls booking a pre-chart success Dappy from N-Dubz after Blue's Lee Ryan had pulled out.

"He was a last-minute booking; we got him the night before the show. Dappy was quite taken aback with Simon going, 'Who the hell are you?', and making fun of his hat, but the tension made for brilliant TV. The second time he came on we played on the fact that in the press he'd said he'd like to spank Simon. He was a bona fide pop star by this point and I just thought, 'We made you!'"

More infamous was Preston and Chantelle-gate: the ex-Ordinary Boy walked off mid-show when Amstell began reading from his then wife's autobiography Living The Dream.

"Hang on," says Mather. He then asks the PR if he's allowed to "talk freely" about the former Celebrity Big Brother contestant ("I don't want Talkback to go mental," he says). He's given the go-ahead.

"I saw the interview in Heat where he said he was wrong to react the way he did to the incident. And then I read that he said, 'I've always been about pop,' and I thought, 'No, you wanted to be a fucking mod!"

Would you have had him on again?

"Well we could have made a joke about it if he came back on but we'd rather have a new comic on the show than him. He was just one joke, really. The thing is, Preston needs the PR more than we do."

Clearly. His single didn't even make the top 100.

"Fuck me!" says Mather, genuinely shocked.

Watching the show being filmed, the absence of Amstell as curly-haired ringmaster has inexorably changed the panel's dynamic. This is mainly thanks to the captains; long-serving Phill Jupitus and new guy Fielding.

They've transformed the slightly tense and caustic atmosphere created by Amstell to one of mild surrealism.

"The chemistry is different to something like Mock the Week," says Fielding. "They are brilliant and skilful but it's a bit aggressive and male; they need some women on there. I'm a token woman anyway. Phill can be aggressive if he wants to, but he doesn't like to. But it was never going to be a bear-pit-type panel show. When shows become a bit 'alpha male' I don't like them. I prefer them when they're all flowers and unicorns." He laughs at the idea: "The ladyboy speaketh …"

Guest host Alex James is surprisingly eloquent. Pre-show he says, "They've made me funny, it's amazing! Despite the fact I'm slipping into Simon's shoes, it's not intimidating. Only because I've got six people writing for me."

Indeed, tonight he puts his previous hosting experiences in the shade. Sadly there's nothing like BBC2's If Music Be The Food Of Love where he played a cheese bass, but there are lots of dairy-centric gags and obscure Blur tracks in the intros round.

Interestingly, the interjections by panelist comics Peter Serafinowicz and Holly Walsh fall a little flat in comparison.

"It doesn't work if you're constantly worrying about getting gags in," says Jupitus.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'I can pinpoint the moment that Chris Moyles crumbled' – Phill Jupitus
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"All the comics who've had a hard time on the show are thinking, 'Must do jokes, must do jokes', instead of interacting. And it's 90% about listening to what the other people are saying."

He cites the example of Chris Moyles, who appeared on the show and slagged it off the next day on his radio show.

"He got me on his show and accused me of having a J-Lo-like fit about chips not arriving from catering, which was a lie. It was ungracious," he says.

"I can pinpoint the moment he crumbled. We were doing the intros round, he wasn't doing well, and Vic Reeves turned around and said to him, 'Chris, do you actually like music at all?" Just because he wasn't funny on the show … he should have just gotten over it."

During the show's two-and-a- half-hour filming session, it's somewhat startling to find that the Buzzcocks' format and stalwart set pieces still work, 22 series and many lineup changes later.

It's still edgy (potentially unbroadcastable gags include ones about Kirsty Wark blacking up, Gordon The Gopher being a prostitute killer, Tom Cruise's sexuality, and "retarded Wombles"). Most importantly, it's enjoyable.

Jupitus believes it's "purely maths" that makes it work. "The show is constantly refreshed because the new faces outnumber the old ones. And we have a great mix of comedy people and pop people. So we get a zeitgeisty mash-up. I said when I began on the first series that I'd still being doing it if it was fun. And it still is."

An article from the guardian

[Source]

Bands on the run

How did a 'gay geek' and a bolshie schoolgirl change the face of music TV? As Simon Amstell and Miquita Oliver bow out of Popworld, Barbara Ellen salutes two presenters who lampooned everyone from Ronan Keating and Girls Aloud to The Strokes

---

Barbara Ellen The Observer, Sunday 9 April 2006 Article history

---

Certain music industry bigwigs may be delighted at the news that Simon Amstell and Miquita Oliver, the presenters of Channel 4's weekend morning must-see chat-and-pop fixture Popworld, are stepping down after six years at the helm.

When we meet to talk before the Observer's photo shoot in north London, Amstell and Oliver tell me that, only recently, Journey South, Simon Cowell's band from The X Factor, firmly rebuffed an invitation to be interviewed on Popworld. 'We couldn't book Journey South,' says Amstell, shaking his head, wonderingly. Does he know whether or not Cowell approves of Popworld? 'I don't know,' he says, adding more firmly, 'but I do know that we don't approve of Simon Cowell.'

For those of you unfamiliar with Popworld, it seems fair to point out that artists and their management may feel they have very good reasons to be nervous of appearing; which of course are the very same reasons the show's fans love to watch it. At various points over the years there has been enough of what the presenters term 'interview gold' to keep celebrity fear levels running high. Everything from a po-faced Gwen Stefani refusing a gift of cheese on the red carpet at this year's Brits; Amstell interviewing Natalie 'You're too beautiful!' Imbruglia with a paper bag over his head, or, famously, Girls Aloud's Cheryl Tweedy, fresh from her court case involving an incident with a toilet attendant, being asked whether people were frightened to see her walk into the ladies.

This is not forgetting such innovations as the talking horses, Richard and Trudy (voiced by Amstell and Oliver), who conducted their beloved 'in-depth' interviews with varying degrees of success. (The Pussycat Dolls giggled as the horses whinnied through their questions; the Strokes glared balefully out from beneath 'too cool for school' fringes.) Other times it was just Amstell and Oliver sitting on sofas, 'nodding understandingly' as artists chatted away, more often than not producing something curiously revealing. Take rapper Dizzee Rascal's solemn (and unbeatable) argument concerning poetic licence in songwriting: 'The person who wrote "Baa Baa Black Sheep" might not have been a shepherd.' Another recent highlight was Craig David revealing that his lyrics had 'matured'. 'So what is the longest word on the album?' asked Amstell. 'Avalanche,' said David. 'What are you rhyming that with?' Amstell persisted, with a dangerous patience. 'Mountain,' said David.

It is this kind of thing - the subtle, forensic and (crucially) funny exposure of pop artists (as nice, mean, clever, daft, sane, bonkers, pompous, modest, deluded and everything in between) that has earned Popworld cult status among its audience, which may be small-ish (ranging from 500,000 to a 1m), but straddles a to-die-for water-cooler demographic of teenagers, hungover students and twentysomethings. As well as sad old people like me, who should know better. The difference being that, this time, adults aren't watching a pop programme in some misguided attempt to be young or cool. It's more that we want to be amused, and Popworld is amusing, it's as simple as that.

All of which accounts for the scenes of pop-cultural mourning which greeted the news of Amstell and Oliver's departure, leaving hard acts to follow for their replacements, comedian Alex Zane and newcomer Alexa Chung. One reason for the misery is that half-decent terrestrial music shows have always been thin on the ground. Of those, some, now defunct, were a bit limp anyway (CD:UK); others are still soldiering on (Top of The Pops has been relegated to a BBC2 slot; Later ... With Jools Holland flies an ever-lonelier flag for the more serious muso); while the best of the rest are gone but not forgotten (The Tube; Whatever You Want; snatches of the much-maligned The Word

Although Popworld has little in common with a show such as The Tube, it shares its sense of reflecting the times - in Popworld's case, our confusing multi-media/blogging/downloading times. But it also harks back to the best on offer from previous eras - including, from the publishing world, the irreverence of old-school Smash Hits!, the merciless skewerings of NME, through to the brutal-when-necessary celebrity demystification of Heat magazine.

When we meet up, Amstell and Oliver also point to the spiritual debt Popworld owes to chat-show hosts such as Ruby Wax, Channel 4-era Graham Norton, David Letterman and Jonathan Ross. 'Simon has always said we're a chat show pretending to be a music show,' says Oliver. 'Chat shows have always done that irreverent thing,' agrees Amstell. 'It just looks new on a music show.'

Amstell, 26, arrives first for the interview; mop-haired, cute and gangly, a distracted 'mad professor' demeanour masking a dry, free-wheeling wit. (At one point, referring to the younger sections of their audience, I ask if they like children. Amstell blinks: 'All of them?') Arriving a little later, 21-year-old Oliver is friendly and bright; her queenly 'cool' nicely complementing Amstell's deceptive aura of runtish anti-cool that has served him so well in interviews.

In the early days of Popworld the pair didn't gel, but these days, on-screen and off, they banter together non-stop, with obvious affection. 'The chemistry is undeniable!' cries Amstell mock-earnestly, but you do wonder why they're calling it a day. 'We'd got to the point where it was as funny as we were ever going to get it,' says Amstell. 'We thought, we need to stop this before it gets too stupid or boring.' Their leaving together was 'less of a pact than an understanding'. 'We felt we'd done the job,' says Amstell. 'We did a McFly special last year and one of the things was a space hopper race, which I thought was a good idea at the time, until I watched the footage back and thought, "I'm 26, I shouldn't be on a space hopper, racing McFly."'

Amstell originally wanted to leave last Christmas, but Oliver persuaded him to stay. 'The thing about Popworld is it became such a luxury to be doing this great show every week, and to have people stop you in the street and say it's good,' she says. 'You get really cosy. I was definitely getting too cosy. I would probably have done Popworld until I was 60.' She smiles ruefully at Amstell. 'It feels a bit like leaving school.' 'But you have to leave school, or you get stuck,' says Amstell. 'I think we need to be a bit scared, a bit challenged again.'

The son of a courier-company owner, Amstell grew up in Essex, first becoming interested in working in television when he saw Chris Evans and Gaby Roslin hosting The Big Breakfast 'I thought, that looks like the best fun you could have. I'll do something like that.' At 21, he landed Popworld after being 'encouraged' to leave the children's channel Nickelodeon - 'I was sacked for being too sarcastic.'

Oliver, only 16 when she started on Popworld, is the daughter of Andrea Oliver, from Eighties punk-funk-boho combo Rip, Rig and Panic (her aunt is Neneh Cherry). Brought up in west London, Oliver says she feels lucky to have had an upbringing surrounded by 'cool adults', but doesn't necessarily think she was predestined to end up in the public eye. She got the job after an audition where she called Britney Spears 'an idiot', and managed to name all the members of Five; 'skills' she puts down to not going to school for a couple of years, spending all her time watching MTV.

Martin Cunning, the MD of At It Productions, which has made Popworld for Channel 4 since its launch in 2001, is excited about Zane and Chung taking over: 'There comes a time, and it is time, to reinvent and reinvigorate the show.' But he describes Amstell and Oliver as 'absolutely, without doubt, a great double act'.

'The great dynamic about Simon and Miquita was always that he was older and funnier, but she was the one who understood music,' says Cunning. 'He was the twisted 21-year-old gay geek, who was sitting in the Essex suburbs bored out of his mind. She was the 16-year-old schoolgirl probably not going to school when she should do, and running around with a fast west London crowd. I could imagine both of them were probably sitting in front of Top of the Pops and MTV, slagging off the videos all day, in different parts of England, just fuming. We always wanted the show to be different. The idea of Popworld has always been, and will remain, that we love music, we're just not fussed about the music industry.'

Popworld started life as a website founded by pop mogul Simon Fuller, and the accompanying show (first transmitted daily at teatime on E4) was originally intended for a much younger audience. 'They didn't really want edgy, they wanted pretend-edgy, but we gave them the real thing, which was quite a shock,' says Amstell. 'We did an interview with Atomic Kitten, and one of the girls was pregnant at the time. They did some awful a-capella thing, and they said, "Oh, the baby's kicking," and I suggested it was because it wanted them to stop. And our boss at the time said: "I don't think you can say that kind of thing to Atomic Kitten." And from there it took about a year of fighting to get to the point where we wanted it to be.' Were they on a mission? 'Just to make a good funny show,' says Amstell. 'We weren't out to expose pop or anything.'

Amstell and Oliver insist they've never set out to be 'nasty'. 'We don't have a studio audience, so really we need to be making them [the guests] laugh as well,' says Amstell. Gay and Jewish, the (non-camp, non-orthodox) Amstell certainly seems to save these magic bullets for special occasions. 'It's nice to ask Rachel Stevens what's her favourite thing about being a Jew. And get a dull response.' Then there were moments such as the infamous encounter with the homophobic Beanie Man ('You won't even give me a hug?'). 'I think the most important thing you can do is make the label irrelevant,' says Amstell.

Elsewhere, with Popworld, it's often the case that artists are their own worst enemies. Just as the presenters know how to be funny, they also know how to be quiet and still and let the moment, however uncomfortable, be. Guests such as Daniel Bedingfield are a case in point - his constant, bewildering attempts to 'out-zany' Amstell, and the subsequent bouncing of metaphorical tumbleweed through the studio, have been among the show's most painful moments, and the most priceless.

That said, Popworld doesn't do musical snobbery. As well as bands such as the Scissor Sisters, Hard-Fi and the Kaiser Chiefs, the programme enjoys strangely symbiotic relationships with less obviously 'cool' guests: they were quick to realise that 'there's something intrinsically funny about Craig David and Daniel Bedingfield', as well as what Amstell terms, 'The naive little bands, the McFlys and things'. 'They never get offended,' says Oliver. 'They always laugh, we always laugh. It's the nicest way Popworld can go.' Amstell agrees: 'We really only get annoyed by arrogance and pomposity, that sort of thing. These are the things we like to mock. And anyone who's boring.'

This seems to be where Popworld has become misunderstood in some quarters. Its base-note strikes one as far from malicious, more mischievous and surreal, which is probably why so many acts have returned time and again. Talking to The Observer by phone, McFly's Tom Fletcher confirms it was always 'good fun' going on Popworld. 'If you're light-hearted and know they're going to mess around, it's fine. I've watched it and people get offended and upset, because all they want to talk about is the new single or album, but we've always liked how silly it is - the more Simon took the mickey out of us, the funnier it was. Our fans love stuff like that.'

Other artists have viewed things rather differently, and refused to appear again - Girls Aloud after the toilet question; Rachel Stevens after being exposed as a bore. Then there are those who have cut interviews short (Britney Spears, after Amstell suggested she was 'nuts'), or opted for a live performance over an interview (Gareth Gates), or refused to come on at all.

'If you don't come in because you're worried we're going to take the piss then you must think we have the ammunition, so that means you think you're shit,' shrugs Amstell. He and Oliver recall an encounter with an unamused Ronan Keating, who they interviewed in the style of a police interrogation: 'I put it to you that life is not a roller coaster, it's a teacup ride, because it's so boring.' Oliver sighs: 'If only he'd just relaxed and laughed, then it would have been fun.' Quite.

Thinking about it, the Keating incident may lie at the heart of what has made Popworld so special. Watching someone like Keating bristle at silly 'beneath-him' questions, or Stefani sourly refusing cheese (or a 'tickle' from Amstell), behind their eyes it is as if they are screaming: 'What happened to the untouchable celebrity dream? I bet Frank Sinatra didn't have to put up with this!' What Popworld is good at is highlighting the gulf between what celebrities want from fame (non-critical adoration, respect) and what they actually get (automatic ridicule; talking horses). How they deal with this, in situations such as they find on Popworld, has become a modern celebrity litmus test of cleverness and humour - some pass, some don't.

'It's really bad to show kids the only way to be successful is to be famous, anyway,' says an unrepentant Oliver. 'I don't know why anybody would want to be famous,' agrees Amstell. 'It's a horrible life. You watch things like Lisa Scott-Lee's programme [MTV's Totally Scott-Lee] and think: "Aren't you embarrassed?" That's why we don't do that thing of - let's celebrate these stars! What are we celebrating? Mindless people, basically.'

Their own plans for the future include a certain number of (separate) TV projects. Oliver is also hoping to act (which she would have done originally had she not been blown off course by 'the greatest job in the world'), while Amstell wants to pursue his stand-up career (he has been performing since he was 14, and will unveil his first one-hour set at the forthcoming Edinburgh Festival). Meanwhile, both seem amused and flattered by the idea that their sojourn on Popworld might be remembered.

'Do you really think so?' says Oliver. Well, yes, in a nice culturally meaningful way, and also on any amount of dreadful clip-shows called 'I Love 2001'. Oliver groans and laughs: 'I never thought of that. That would be terrible.' Amstell stares ahead miserably: 'Kate Thornton will still be there.'