In a topsy-turvy world, it is important to hang on to areas of constancy. Rising global temperatures may be close to the point of no return, war may be raging, and the economy might be tanking; but as long as there is Countdown, there is still a chance that everything will turn out OK.
The announcement this week that Colin Murray is to become the show’s latest permanent host, was a welcome reminder of its extraordinary longevity. Having celebrated its 40th anniversary last year, there is little sign that Countdown’s reign as the king of afternoon gameshows will come to an end any time soon. And thank goodness for that.
I was introduced to the programme by my grandparents, who were disciples of dictionary corner. They moved to our village when I was 12, and thereafter my brother and I would go to their house after school most days, playing along with the contestants while eating our way through nana and grandad’s endless supply of Werther’s Originals. It may say a lot about how cool we were, that we kept this routine up for four or five years.
The simplicity of the format remains Countdown’s strength: make your best word from some random letters; do a sum; figure out an anagram as quickly as you can; close credits. The original French version was called Des Chiffres et des Lettres, which could not be more perfect in summing up the show’s uncomplicated appeal.
During the recent Christmas holiday, I introduced my seven-year-old son to Countdown’s wonders. He is already a gameshow fanboy, but I wondered if Countdown’s lack of pizazz – and the intellectual challenge – might put him off. Not a bit of it. He might have been able to muster little more than the occasional five-letter word, but he thrilled at the real contestants’ ability to come up trumps with such regularity.
Back in the mid-Nineties, in a skit for a GCSE drama show, I took on the role of the master himself, Richard Whitely – the show’s original and best host, who oversaw proceedings for nearly 23 years, until his untimely death in 2005.
Quite why we were acting out a dreamlike Countdown sequence, I’m really not sure. The vowels and consonants chosen by our contestants came up as LAWNEMOWR, which I, doing my best Whitely impression, described as “a tricky set of letters”. I also cracked a very teenage fart gag revolving around the noise made by a contestant’s buzzer.
Years later, I ended up at a couple of dinners with the man I had impersonated, and he was a delight: jolly, charming, freer of ego than many TV personalities, and happy to laugh at himself. It was easy to see why he had been so successful in making the Countdown hotseat his own.
Since the end of the Whitely era, the programme has had six hosts, with only Nick Hewer – perhaps the most surprising of that half dozen – managing more than a couple of years. Murray has been in post for six months and has now got the gig full-time; and he has that mix of easy charm and calm authority, which should stand him in good stead for a long stint.
Certainly, a settled presenting line-up is a key ingredient in Countdown’s success. The fact that Susie Dent has been appearing in dictionary corner since 1992 – and has been its daily inhabitant since 2004 – has made it much easier to deal with changes at the show’s helm. Rachel Riley may still feel like a newcomer to some stalwart viewers, but she’s now in her 13th year (and on her fourth host). The present triumvirate can be a united force for years to come.
But if for some reason Murray decides it’s not for him after all, my dramatic GCSE experience as a youthful Richard Whitely means there is at least one other option available. I’ll be waiting patiently for Channel 4 to call my number – or send a letter.
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