Going from telling jokes about your sex life in a room above a pub to asking someone in a studio what the capital of Malaysia is might not seem like an obvious career transition. It is, however, increasingly common to turn on your TV and see a comedian fronting a gameshow. In recent times, Romesh Ranganathan has hosted The Weakest Link; Michael McIntyre has hosted The Wheel; Lee Mack has hosted The 1% Club; and Jason Manford has hosted The Answer Run. When there are so many other people who would be glad of the work – full-time presenters; actors; Nigel Farage – why is the male-standup-hosting-a-quizshow such a mainstay of modern TV?
Joel Dommett is likely as familiar to the general public for his hosting as for his comedy. He thinks the snobbery that used to exist in the comedy industry about gameshows and adverts has subsided a little. “Comedians nowadays can do all those things and still be accepted as a decent comic,” he says.
For Dommett, there’s a symbiotic relationship between standup and presenting shows such as In With A Shout, Survivor, The Masked Singer and The Love Trap. “Standup’s almost the training for it in a weird way,” he says, “but then also being on the gameshow keeps you on telly, then sells your tours in order for you to be able to keep doing standup.”
Although some comics can make a living just from touring, this is a small minority, and the industry is still feeling the impact of a pandemic that ravaged live entertainment. This has caused a shift in attitude, says Richard Hague, who executive-produced The Wall, presented by Danny Dyer. He believes that Lee Mack, who makes a good living performing live, writing and starring in a BBC sitcom and appearing as a team captain on Would I Lie to You?, might not have considered The 1% Club under normal circumstances. The Wheel, similarly, was the result of the BBC looking for Covid-friendly shows. Comedians may have realised that, if there was a chance they could have another string to their bow, they might as well play it.
This is by no means an exclusively modern phenomenon – with comics such as Lily Savage (Blankety Blank) and Jim Davidson (The Generation Game) hosting gameshows over the years. But TV is in trouble at the moment, says Richard Bacon, who produced I Literally Just Told You, presented by Jimmy Carr. Networks are desperate to get their audience’s attention straight away. Bacon, who was once a TV presenter on shows such as Blue Peter and The Big Breakfast, started creating gameshows because he wanted to front them. He was then informed that he wasn’t well known enough to present primetime shows. Three out of four of his commissions have been shows hosted by comedians. “It’s a better time than ever to be really famous talent,” he says.
But if channels need a household name, why not reach for singers? Or actors? Unlike comedy, which is famously tied to culture, established pop acts and Hollywood stars can more readily cross borders, making them easier sells for international audiences.
As The Wheel producer Tom Blakeson points out, actors are most well known for becoming other people, which is a problem. “A lot of actors don’t want anybody to know who they are – that’s why they act.” A gameshow audience wants to be entertained but also reassured (which explains why more challenging comics such as Stewart Lee don’t host gameshows). As Hague says, the tone is set by the host, so audiences wouldn’t be sure that Ian McKellen was going to be a wickedly naughty host or a dry and sombre one. They know, however, that if McIntyre is hosting it’s going to be light and bubbly and full of Michael McIntyre jokes. He has that thing on which commissioners love to prey: a brand.
So comedians with well known brands emerge as the most qualified candidates. James Gill, who has warmed up for multiple TV shows, and hosts the award-winning Always Be Comedy, says comics make the best hosts because they have the human touch. “The comedians we’re talking about have such compassion because of their years dealing with people, and that is such an asset when it comes to gameshows.”
Another advantage a comic has over an actor, Blakeson points out, is that an actor’s audience is usually compliant. A comedian is used to interacting with an audience and winning them over, whereas even a newsreader – who could be superb at the job technically – might not be able to make an anxious contestant laugh.
“Yes, a comedian is a shortcut, potentially, but they are bringing with them a huge skillset these other people don’t have,” says Hague. “It’s like saying, ‘Why are all these fighter pilots from the RAF getting all the British Airways pilot gigs?’ Beause they know how to fly planes.”
When there were only four channels on TV, there was less pressure on hosts to provide entertainment. But, with TV struggling against the might of streaming platforms and the internet, choosing a host who is more likely to produce hilarious viral moments is increasingly tempting. And it is probably no coincidence that, whereas TV’s most popular chatshow used to be hosted by Michael Parkinson, a serious journalist who let his guests do the jokes, it is now hosted by Graham Norton, a man who, immense chatting talents notwithstanding, found fame as a comedian. As Bacon says, the training opportunities for presenting talent are drying up. The same can’t be said for funny people with millions of followers.
Lastly, of course, there’s the money. Hague says hosts in the UK can earn more than £15,000 an episode. Bacon says that for an American show he worked on the host earned several hundred thousand dollars per episode. Compared with standup, hosting seems like a doddle. Presenters don’t need to learn lines; they won’t be heckled; they tend not even to be performing in front of an audience; and they can make weeks’ worth of TV in days. A cynic might think they’re only in it for the money. “They’re taking their opportunity when it comes,” says Blakeson. “When you’re an entertainer you really do need to make hay while the sun shines.”
This doesn’t mean it’s easy or that comics should get complacent. “There are times when I’ve seen gameshows almost not work because a comedian’s hosted,” says Bacon. “I can see that they’re thinking about the joke and they’re not thinking about either the story or the human experience of this person.”
Gill cautions against assuming it’s as easy as it looks: “What you really pick up when you’re watching someone host a gameshow from close quarters is how many things they’re simultaneously juggling. It’s very much the old swan analogy: on TV we see a terrific gameshow where everyone’s having fun but the legs will be paddling mighty quick beneath the surface.”
Dommett echoes this, having seen how consummately McIntyre presents The Wheel. “For two and a half hours he doesn’t leave the set, doesn’t leave the circle, he just stands there, in between all these mad celebrities, and entertains us all, constantly, whether he’s filming or not filming.”
But, if anything could have prepared these comedians for the difficulty of hosting, it is standup, that most unforgiving and gladiatorial of entertainments. Survive all alone on a stage, and anything else will feel like a walk in the park. As Dommett puts it, “I’m OK by myself, so I’m definitely gonna be fine with an Autocue and a script.”
• This article was amended on 20 February 2025. An earlier version attributed remarks to the executive producer Richard Ackerman whereas they were made by the executive producer Richard Hague.
