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JAN MOIR: Too much saucer eyed staring at Ben, but Cat's got an irrepressible spritz of mischief

The beleaguered daytime show was relaunching with a dream team of Cat Deeley and Ben Shephard; the pair of them trumpeted as exciting new faces, even if we all know they're very old faces.

Instead, it was straight off into Brazilian bum lifts gone wrong, competitions to win a holiday home, Gino D’Acampo making spaghetti with cheese, Gyles Brandreth in a silly jumper and an item on how to cook air fryer chips – you have to parboil the potatoes first apparently, so what is the point? The new show takes place amid the familiar tellyscape of flock wallpaper and potted plants alongside sofas and untouched coffee mugs; a morning window on an awakening nation that is unchanged since the Jurassic Age or when Richard & Judy roamed the Earth, which is basically the same thing. He is dependable and nice, but always in the shadow of those bigger, flashy rotters called Phil or Piers or Rylan or Eamonn; boys who drink up the limelight like lemonade and leave him with the short straw.

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