Open All Hours

This is one of the best British sitcoms of all time and comes close to the likes of Porridge and Fawlty Towers.

It's basically about a shopkeeper, Arkwright, who is a tight fisted old miser and is constantly trying to seek great attention from nurse Gladys Emanuel, his neighbour and so-called fiancé. Arkright runs a grocers shop on a quiet little street, set in early 1970's Doncaster.

Each episode is mainly about the day-to-day running of the shop and Arkwrights' constant banter and disagreements with Granville, his nephew, employee and whipping boy. Granville is still a boy at heart, thanks to his uncle, who won't let him grow up. He is paid a pittance and is kept firmly at bay by his uncle from loose woman and any other form of socializing.

The funniest moments in the show are the lengths Mr Arkwright will go to sell his products. He will say just about anything to get his customers to spend their hard earned dosh in his shop. But the dialogue between all characters is superb and it's clearly a well written series.

As the viewer, you really get used to the regular customers in the shop, and it's hilarious to see them be minipulated into buying items they didn't come in for.

10 Out Of 10

If you're an outgoing young man, always trying to impress your peers and increase your knowledge of the opposite sex, how on earth are you going to manage it with a squeaky antique shop bike, a vicious finger-eating till and a pinny?

Well, Granville's problems don't matter to his uncle Arkwright, the meanest shopkeeper alive. Meet the man to whom modern technology is so expensive that he won't even satisfy Granville's burning desire for a new till (hopefully electronic). This is the man who wouldn't even spend £222.22 (check the episode Laundry Blues for that one) just to prove to long- desired fiancée Nurse Gladys Emmanuel that his home appliances are up-to-the-minute.

There are too many classic episodes to mention (memorable ones include the cocoa tin lid, the suit with the zip fly and Granville posing as a prowler that fails to even confuse Nurse Gladys, never mind scare her). As with Fawlty Towers, small details at the beginning of each episode come together at the end to round off each story nicely. A classic comedy from the BBC that started before I was born and is still great.

Two great comedy legends Ronnie Barker and David Jason come together to produce one of the greatest British sitcoms of all time.

The plots may seem a little twee compared to the more action packed sitcoms of today but there is something so charming about the simple shop set up combined with the writing talent of Roy Clarke that sets this show apart from anything that has been produced since. There is a timeless appeal about Open all hours.

Barker and Jason have fantastic chemistry and make the characters of Arkwright and Granville so iconic and loved that we get to know them so well over the four series run.

Comedy like this will live on forever while the so called modern classics of today will soon be all but forgotten and the cries of "Granville - get yer cloth" will generate laughter across the world forever.

G,gggranville, very capably played by the very naive David Jason, playing as the assistant to Ronnie Barker, playing the tight fisted, finger on the scales "Arkwright" whose life revolved around nurse Ggggggladys and cast with the most amazing cash register come man trap the producer could find. The series showed northern England in its Blackest humour. Granville's dreams about even hold a woman in his arms were so sensitively acted. Good clean fun with no violence, filth or malice. A great show.

I fail to understand how anyone can watch even a single episode of 'Open All Hours' and label it 'quaint', 'gentle' or 'twee', yet I've come across these descriptions time and time again. Personally, I consider its humour, if not its situation, to be among the darkest (and the deepest) of any British sitcom. For example: ' She's a dear, frail old lady. Of course you can leave her. Just stick her on a park bench and run for it.' Or 'I wouldn't give you tuppence for his kidneys. How much is your boiled ham?' Or Arkwright's deducting the price of a crate of ale from the money he spends on his best friend's funeral wreath. Hardly sentimental, is it? In fact, it's downright callous at times, and all the more impressive for it.