Claudia Winkelmann Show Review – Yes we love her, but this chat show is a mess | Claudia Winkleman

Look now. Let’s clear a few things up before we get started.

We love Claudia Winkleman, absolutely, yes.

We loved her on the radio, we loved her on Strictly Come Dancing, her son on The Traitors, and we hope we can be her when we grow up or at least wear a little of her Traitors wardrobe. We love her poetry, we love her warmth and intelligence, and we’re sure the wisdom will flow if the universe does right by us and makes her our best friend.

This is clear. This is a given. And all of this remains true despite the unholy chaos of the opening segment of Claudia Winckelmann’s long-advertised show.

First off, there are four unrelated guests, which is quite a lot. And taking them all out at once is just stupid. Organizing this into a form of order would make even Graham Norton, the most experienced cat herder in the world, a quail bird. The problems are compounded because one of the guests is Jeff Goldblum, whose unique approach to life and performance requires special handling to bring out the best in him and allow others to have their turn in the spotlight without hindering the casual contributions that he, unlike some actors, is good at.

Tom Allen works hard, especially in the beginning, to get some energy into the room. Vanessa Williams, appearing in London in the theatrical version of The Devil Wears Prada, is all grace and charm while clearly bewildered, almost terrified, by the nonsense unfolding around her — and remaining more or less silent until it is her official turn to speak. Jennifer Saunders delivers some decent lines while also clearly wishing she was in bed four hours earlier.

Discussions start off awkwardly—and poorly—as each guest is asked to comment on the group. “It’s a hotel lounge you can’t go to to get free nuts” is what no one had the courage to say. What color do they think the sofa is? Hunter Greene, Goldblum steps forward bravely. Maybe emerald. “Dark teal,” Saunders says in a tone that suggests she wishes she or someone else was somewhere else. She needs to pace herself. Goldblum has many less than anecdotal tales about teenage Jeff and endless hours shilling for his new jazz album so far. But before that, we get to know Trudy, the woman who designed the collection and chose the color of the sofa. “Out of 70 options” apparently. She dismisses Allen’s description of her workplace as a furniture store. “This is what I live for as a gay man,” Allen replies. “Being insulted by an upholsterer.” Is this funny? Is it cruel? Is it both or neither? It doesn’t matter because the audience and Claudia respond all the time to anything that looks or sounds like a joke with ecstatic laughter. When an actual joke happens, the hysteria almost blows the roof off.

We grimly move through more not-so tales from Jeff and the other guests. He thinks his stunt wife, Emily, is amazing. He also likes pencils, but not mechanical pencils. Saunders and Williams use the same hairdresser: his name is Sven. Vanessa’s knights always make provision for her Great Dane, Roscoe, to accompany her, and she was served smoked salmon and scrambled eggs by Sir Ian McKellen. No, that’s it. Jennifer can’t stand WhatsApp groups that differ from their original purpose. Tom Allen calls furniture left out for people to take for free “street appetizers.”

“This is great!” Claudia says at one point. not so.

I left the worst until last. There is — and I can’t believe I’m going to have to write this in the year of our Lord 2026 — audience participation. This should have been banned generations ago. We are not a camera ready nation and we never will be. But it happens and happens over and over again. Claudia forcefully extracts from one guest a prepared passage – about ghosts in the theater, for example – or levers on a basic fact (“You’ve got a place in the country, don’t you, Jennifer?” Saunders makes it sound as if Claudia has just announced her passport details and medical records to the world) and then it turns out that one of the audience members is a fortune teller or lives near Jennifer and is one of the local volunteers who helps the frogs on the road at night. Breeding pool so they are not killed. There were local newspapers for that sort of thing. We must bring them back.

In the end it was over. Claudia was faster and smarter than at least three-fifths of her guests, and Allen got every penny of his pay. I suspect Williams is still in therapy, Saunders is berating her agent, and Goldblum has forgotten he was there at all.

Looks like there are only three guests next week. Fingers crossed everyone. Fingers crossed.