The Best 124 Moments In Taskmaster History (As A Way Of Escaping The Despair of 2020) [80–61]
Welcome to Part Three of my pointless and extremely arbitrary rundown of The Best 124 Moments In Taskmaster History as a coping mechanism for the terribleness of the year 2020! It’s working quite well so far, I hadn’t thought about 2020 for a good thirty seconds before I mentioned it in that last sentence and whoops now I’m sad again.
So far we’ve had Josh Widdicombe being bullied by the concept of singing, Joe Lycett blowing up a cake with fireworks and Sian Gibson sending NSFW texts to Greg Davies. What will the next twenty installments bring? Surely it can’t get any better than that?! (Spoiler: it will, because that’s how these lists work!)
Anyway, SHUT UP, Me! You came here for Taskmaster action and that’s what I’m going to give you let’s go go go!
80: Sally Phillips Chucks A Jelly In A Bucket (Series 5, Ep 3)
Task: a) Eat one item.
b) Balance an item on a pole.
c) Throw an item in a bucket from behind the rope.
ITEMS: Weetabix, Jelly, Twiglet
What happened: While this task broke a lot of the other competitors (Nish Kumar got so angry with his Weetabix that he ground it into dust in his hand, Aisling Bea had an existential crisis watching a jelly slowly fall down a pole, etc), Phillips produced one of the most efficient performances in Taskmaster history — without saying a word, she moved the table to balance the Weetabix, she popped the Twiglet in her mouth and then in one glorious movement she chucked the jelly in the bucket. And the crowd goes wild.
Why is it so good: it’s the contrast between Phillips and the rest of the pack — while Nish struggled and vented, commentating on every last detail of his failure (“I hate this show”), Phillips just shut up and got on with it with a chilling brilliance. No chit-chat, no banter, no “how do we do this” — she read the task dispassionately, moved the table, ate the Twiglet, threw the jelly. She exuded the energy of a veteran hitman taking out her thousandth target —sure, maybe in the past she got a thrill from throwing her first jelly into a bucket, but now? Now it’s just a job. Add to that the way that Greg Davies is clearly blown away — he gets up to shake Sally’s hand and then presents her to the crowd like a champion gladiator. In Nish’s words: iconic.
Position in task: First (half the time of anyone else).
Watch out for: Aisling providing the commentary we were all thinking: “She can’t throw the jelly?!” But great sportspeople do what mere mortals think is impossible. She threw the jelly.
79: Richard Osman Moves The Yoga Mat (Series 2, Ep 1)
Task: Place three exercise balls on a yoga mat, on top of a hill.
What happened: All of the other competitors (quite reasonably) thought that the task meant that they would have to move the (comically large) exercise balls up the (comically high) hill. Richard Osman, on the other hand, spotted a loophole and brought the yoga mat down to the exercise balls. After much debate about the wording of the task (and a ruling from Countdown’s Susie Dent), Richard’s effort was allowed to stand.
Why is it so good: Richard Osman set out his stall quickly in the first video task of the second series — rather than expending pointless (geddit) energy, he would forensically analyse the precise wording of every task and come up with a solution which would satisfy the letter — if not the obvious spirit — of the law. This, arguably, was his greatest achievement — not interpreting the task as “put the exercise balls on top of the hill, on top of this yoga mat”, but “put the exercise balls on top of this yoga mat which is currently at the top of the hill”. As footage was shown in the studio of him picking the yoga mat up, the other contestants seethed (Jon Richardson shook his head like a manager being denied by VAR, Katherine Ryan hissed “oh NO”) — but you can’t help but admire Osman’s cunning. Moreover, this marked an important evolution in Taskmaster — in the first series, there had been contestants who had sought to break the rules (Tim Key), but Richard Osman was the first to consistently adopt a tactic of searching for loopholes to great success, blazing a trial for sneaky others (Hugh Dennis, Dave Gorman, Rhod Gilbert, etc). A pioneer.
Position in task: First, despite Jon Richardson’s fury.
Watch out for: Joe Wilkinson trying to discredit Susie Dent’s testimony by miming a drink and saying “she had a few too many of them. If she wrote that in the evening, I would discount it.”
78: Rhod Gilbert Tapes His Eyes Open (Series 7, Ep 7)
Task: Don’t blink. Your time starts in 10 seconds.
What happened: The classic “bored in a car” game is taken to extreme new levels by Rhod Gilbert, who first pries his eyes open with his fingers (disturbing), then asks for a staple gun (new levels of disturbing), before finally getting Alex to gaffertape his eyes open while yelling “get it on there, get it on there” (“we need a new word for disturbing” levels of disturbing). Rhod eventually blinks before letting out a semi-orgasmic moan of relief (“Phil Wang hulahooping in his jumpsuit” levels of disturbing). He kept them open for a literally eye-watering seven minutes and ten seconds.
Why is it so good: As Greg says, it’s like something out of A Clockwork Orange — it’s horrible, awful and yet, like Rhod, you can’t keep your eyes off it. It might be the fact that it’s set in the lab, but it really has the vibe of an early 00s horror film — there’s a point where Rhod has to tip the tears out of his eyes while keeping them pried open with his fingers that would not be out of place in Hostel 3. Despite all of this, Rhod maintains his jovial Welsh GP vibe (“The right eye is the worry, that’s where most of the pain is!”) — and in a way it’s good to know that he’s as capable of inflicting pain on himself as he is with Alex. At the end of the task, Greg admits that in fifteen years of friendship, that’s the most impressed he’s ever been with Rhod — and it’s hard to disagree.
Position in task: First (if you inflict potentially long term damage on your eyes, you get five points, them’s the rules)
Watch out for: the gaffer tape, despite Alex’s best efforts, being entirely useless, and instead just creating a rather fetching bandana. In case anyone felt like A Clockwork Orange needed a ‘80s reboot set in rural Wales.
77: Rose Matafeo Jumps Out Of A Hedge And Screams STELLA (Series 9, Ep 1)
Task: Make the most dramatic entrance.
What happened: While others went for the dramatic and complex (Ed Gamble got a bunch of baby heads and terrifying rock music), Rose went for the simple — dressing up in a green camouflage outfit, jumping out of a hedge, tearing her grass hat and jacket from her body and giving her best Streetcar Named Desire impression with a powerful, angst-ridden “STELLLAAAAA”!
Why is it so good: It’s the long, long, long, looooong shot of the Taskmaster gate at the start of the film that nails this — your eyes are trained to it, staring at the gate and waiting for Rose to burst through in dramatic fashion. When she jumps out of the hedge instead, her weird green grass suit perfectly merging with her background, it’s both surprising and dramatic . The first time I watched it, I let out a shocked high-pitched yell, a sound I didn’t know I was capable of making. Even now, watching it back, I know what’s coming and it’s still surprising. You barely have enough time to recover from the discovery of the sentient bush before Rose drops to her knees and gives it the old “Stella”. In Rose’s words, “simple, effective, elegant”. Tick, tick, tick.
Position in task: First, tick tick tick.
Watch out for: Rose’s embarrassed quick look around, post-“STELLAAAA”, to see if anyone was watching, combined with the casual jog off. Can’t stop, mate. I’ve got other hedges to jump out of.
76: James Acaster Tries To “Draw” The “Biggest” Circle (Series 7, Ep 2)
Task: Draw the biggest and best circle.
What happened: Despite the words “draw” and “biggest” appearing on the task, James decided to bet it all on his interpretation of “best” — which he thinks means “ride about on a bike in circles while hulahooping”. Unsurprisingly to anyone who has ever hulahooped (ie, not James Acaster), the hoop gets caught under James’ pedals, he slowly crashes into a wall after a third of the diameter of one, very wobbly circle, before jumping off the bike onto a circular bit of brickwork. Most competitors, at this point, would have said something like, “Oh no”, or “I’ve fucked it”, or “[exasperated Joe Thomas sigh]”, but James is not most competitors — instead he starts to point at all of the circles he can see (the path! The bike wheels! The hula hoop!) and claim that if you add up all the circles, he will win. “That was the real task.” Greg is having none of it.
Why is it so good: It’s James’ determination to not give up, even in the face of reality — he may have failed to draw a circle, or even make a circle, or even do one single good hulahoop, but he’ll still sell it to you as the greatest “circle” that’s ever been “drawn”. In a sense his refusal to back down, and the way he creates his own version of the “real task”, is throwing a gauntlet down to objective truth — the way that Greg stares at him, a face of thunder, as soon as the show cuts back to the studio, and James replies breezily “…good evening”, he’s effectively daring Greg to defend the concept of perceived reality. He’s forcing us to confront the arbitrary definitions we have set for ourselves. Who are any of us to say that what James did was not the biggest, the best, circle? Who sets these definitions? Who presumes to control our sense of self? Well, the short answer is: The Taskmaster. And he’s pissed off. “Explain yourself.” The way he lays into James for his complete disregard for the task is Greg at his most “fed up teacher at 3 o’clock on a Thursday” — it rarely comes out, but when it does, it’s glorious.
Position in task: Last. But then in the real task…
Watch out for: after Greg has eviscerated James for pointing to circles and trying to claim that as part of his task, he asks if James has anything different to add. A beat. “My eyes are circles?” Outstanding.
75: Roisin Conaty Makes Alex Eat A Hot Toothpaste Pie (Series 1, Ep 2)
Task: Identify the contents of pies without breaching the pastry.
What happened: In the earliest task on the countdown so far (they all look so young!), the contestants had to identify the contents of a pie without breaching the pastry. Of course, this being Taskmaster, the pies were all varying degrees of taste (steak pie, marble pie), but the worst was the Hot Toothpaste Pie. While Ranganathan, Skinner and Widdicombe all did their best not to breach the pies (instead sniffing, prodding, etc), Tim Key (the Nasty Nick of Taskmaster) and Roisin Conaty had a different tactic — get Alex to breach the pie for them. In Roisin’s case, she got Alex to eat the pies, and… well. The rest is minty-fresh history.
Why is it so good: This was one of those tasks that made people sit up and realise that this was not your average Dave panel show — this was a show where beloved comedians will force favourites from the Edinburgh Fringe to eat a big lump of toothpaste in a hot pie crust. This task is also genius in how it’s presented — by showing Tim’s VT first, where he gets Alex to smash the pie with his fist, revealing the molten white toothpaste below, we get this perfect dramatic irony during Roisin’s task, when she tells him to eat it: Roisin doesn’t know what’s in the pie, but we do, and so does Alex. The look he gives to camera — laughing, but despairing, as he knows what he has to do… it’s a masterpiece in structure and editing. The actual eating of the pie is disgusting — a wet floppy white tongue that Alex has to gobble up, which makes me gag even thinking about it. The topper? Roisin inexplicably decides that she can’t look or go near the contents of the pie after they’ve been breached, so guesses based on the residue around Alex’s mouth — and goes for a milk pie. Alex looks so upset.
Position in task: Second, behind Tim Key who actually decided to look at the pies post-breach.
Watch out for: the “breach” debate, where Romesh Ranganathan gets properly furious at the accusations that he’s a breacher. When it’s Roisin’s turn, and she’s accused of being a breacher, she utters the immortal words “Hey hey hey. Papa don’t breach.”
74: Jon Richardson Decides To Ignore What “Debajo De La Mesa” Means (Series 2, Ep 5)
Task: Build the highest freestanding bridge to support a potato, using the items on the table.
What happened: In this strangely difficult task, competitor after competitor struggled to build a bridge over the river with the functionally useless items provided (some straw, some chewing gum, a deck of cards, some defenceless cows, etc). Except, of course, there was something going on under the surface. During the task, Jon Richardson noticed that the boat was called the Debajo de la Mesa, but thought nothing of it. It was only during the studio show when Jon Richardson, his face aghast, suddenly realised what the boat was trying to tell him — “under the table”. If he had looked under the table, he would have found some much better building equipment (wooden poles, scissors, tape, etc). Also, if he (or any of the other competitors) had looked up, he’d have seen the sign that said “Look under the table”. Or if they’d pressed the button on the side of the table they’d have seen a sign light up that said (you guessed it) “Look under the table”. Instead no-one spotted it, and everyone was left to their terrible cowy, gummy bridges.
Why is it so good: It’s a classic Taskmaster ploy — a hidden message somewhere in the task which can unlock the secret weapon for victory (see also: the number eight being drawn on the caravan during the Series 7 Satsuma Sock challenge, balloons spelling out “pop two balloons and win” in Morse code in Series 3, etc). This one though had so many clues, and yet none of the competitors saw it — not even the usually forensic Richard Osman, who just started chucking cards and erasers into the river in an almost Wilkinsonian display of chaos. What made it all the worse for Jon Richardson was that he speaks Spanish, and translated the name of the boat in his head! He looked at the boat, registered that the boat’s name was “Under the Table” and then just thought, “Hah, that’s a funny name for a boat, anyway, back to making my shitty cow bridge!” As Jon said, the one ability he had coming into this show was a vague ability to understand Spanish, and it let him down. Dios mio.
Position in task: First, but largely irrelevant — in reality this task defeated him.
Watch out for: Doc Brown’s genuine fury at the reveal that there was better building supplies underneath the table — so strong it made him get up out of his chair, as if he was about to threaten Alex to a fight in the car park. Magnificent.
73: Roisin Conaty Tries To Send A Boulder To Camber Sands (Series 1, Ep 5)
Task: Move a boulder as far as possible in one hour.
What happened: In a task where speed is of the essence, Roisin Conaty spends twenty eight minutes — that’s around 47% of her time in the task — debating whether or not she should take the boulder to Camber Sands (she had been Googling a day trip earlier in the week). Eventually, after calling up a few courier services, she discovered that the earliest time a courier could get there was an hour, so she resorted to Plan B: rolling the boulder down the street. In an hour she moved the boulder 300 yards, at a speed of 0.17mph, fractionally speedier than moving a boulder via plate tectonics.
Why is it so good: Often with the earlier episodes the show can feel like it hasn’t quite found its tone yet (they spend a fair amount of time trying to justify why the Taskmaster would want the comedians to get a boulder as far away from the house as possible), but Roisin’s attempt is an instant classic in a well-trodden Taskmaster genre — Lofty Ambitions, Rubbish Execution. At the start of the task, she seems almost giddy with the possibilities — get me a transit van! No wait, the one below a transit van! We’ll drive it to Camber Sands! No wait, we don’t have enough time to get to Camber Sands! I’ll call you back! Slowly though, that giddiness gives away to a sense of unease — as the clock ticks, the boulder continues to sit there in the garage, and the possibilities narrow and narrow and narrow until there’s only one left — shove it down the road. That journey from “anything is possible” to rolling a rock down the pavement and muttering “oh dear, oh dear, I’ve messed this up so bad…” — that’s classic Taskmaster.
Position in task: Sadly common for Roisin — last place.
Watch out for: Roisin trying to dance around what the item is when ordering the courier, lest the courier people think she’s weird (“It’s one… large… item…”) before giving up immediately (“It’s a boulder.”).
72: Russell Howard Bowls A Cricket Ball And Hits The Wicket First Time (Series 6, Ep 7)
Task: Knock the bails off of the stumps. You have a maximum of one over (six throws).
What happened: Asim and Liza chucked random balls at the wicket with no success. Tim Vine used string to pull the stumps down. Liza had a strop and destroyed the wicket with a barrel (classy, but disqualification). It was left to supreme sportsman Russell Howard to knock the bails off the proper way — with a perfectly weighted yorker, smashing the middle stump with his first attempt. Just supremely satisfying.
Why is it so good: Look, I’m aware that celebrities can be good at multiple things. That’s sort of the reasoning behind shows like Strictly Come Dancing or Celebrity Masterchef or that one where they made Paris Hilton work on a farm. But there’s something about comedians and sport that will never not surprise me — as far as I understand it, kids only get good at jokes growing up to get out of playing sport, so the idea of someone being good at both is both a marvel and infuriating. And after four (understandably) dreadful attempts by the other competitors, Howard just makes it look so easy. Throw the ball at the stumps. Bosh. That said, as Howard points out, it’s a lot easier when there isn’t a batsman.
Position in task: First, deserved.
Watch out for: the way t hat, as soon as he knocks the bails off the stump, he ruins it by breezily saying “call me when I’m needed” and sauntering off, like he’s Tom Cruise on the set of a movie where Tom Cruise has to dress like Russell Howard.
71: Mel Giedroyc Runs Through A Baby Gap With A Toy Camel (Series 4, Ep 6)
Task: Put a toy camel through the smallest gap within 30 minutes.
What happened: Everyone else took this task in its most literal sense — ie, find a very small gap and squeeze the toy camel through it, even if that meant slicing it into pieces and putting it in a blender (incredibly both Joe Lycett and Hugh Dennis had this idea). But cutting up a toy camel was not something Sylvanian Families superfan Mel Giedroyc could countenance. She had another plan — she jumped in a car, drove to the nearest high street and, while holding the camel, sprinted through Baby Gap (logically the smallest possible Gap in the world). Mel Giedroyc does the most Mel Giedroyc thing in a task, and it entirely pays off.
Why is it so good: When Mel first starts doing this task by leaving the house, there is a genuine sense of worry. Why isn’t she tearing the camel limb from limb, or at the very least mangling it through a sock drawer? Why is she getting into a car? Has she misread the task? Has she lost her mind? Is she quitting the show? The moment Mel Giedroyc jumps out of the car and sprints into a random shop, you genuinely wonder if you’ve changed the channel to a re-run of an old Bake Off, and it’s one of those segments where Mel goes and asks an authentic Dutch pastry chef how to make the perfect Boterkoek. The punchline is perfect — and as Alex points out, must have been absolutely bizarre for anyone shopping or working at that store that day. Mel Giedroyc ran in here holding a stuffed camel, ran back out again, started cheering. Just a normal Thursday.
Position in task: First, and in the WWF’s good books too.
Watch out for: Mel pointing at the shop from the taxi and saying “I’ve seen it, it’s tiny, it’s absolutely tiny.” Also, and you won’t care about this, but I used to live near that Baby Gap and visited that high street quite often. There’s a very very small chance I’m in the background in this episode, grumpily waiting for a pizza.
70: Dave Gorman Gets Ben Fogel To Do His Task For Him (Series 3, Ep 5)
Task: Play Charades across a river, with giant foam hands. (Team task)
What happened: Team Beckett and Pascoe (“Team Aryan Twins” as Greg called them) struggled here (mostly because Rob Beckett didn’t recognise Sara Pascoe from across the river, which definitely soured relations. Also at one point Sara Pascoe gets distracted by a dog). The other team were struggling too — until Dave Gorman noticed that TV’s Ben Fogel was filming something on the bank of the river, and got him to shout the answers to Al Murray and Paul Chowdry. Baffling.
Why is it so good: Why. Is. Ben. Fogel. Just. THERE? It makes no sense, and it’s a spot of incredible fortune for many reasons — first that another show was filming, and also that it was Ben Fogel instead of a less shouty celebrity, like Kevin McCloud or Mari Kondo. Dave Gorman has absolutely no qualms about approaching Ben Fogel to get him to shout “Dave Gorman’s Modern Life Is Goodish” across the Thames (hey, any publicity’s good publicity, right?), and Ben Fogel, to his credit, seems game for a laugh. Probably hoping for an invite onto Series 12.
Position in task: First, but against a pup-obsessed Pascoe and an increasingly grumpy Beckett, that’s not surprising.
Watch out for: The fact that the only one they didn’t get was Dave Gorman’s Modern Life Is Goodish (and that Alex accidentally called it Dave Gorman’s Modern Life Is Rubbish). Great to see Dave shows helping each other out.
69: Katherine Ryan Raps To The Mayor Of Chesham (Series 2, Ep 3)
Task: Impress the mayor of Chesham.
What happened: While Doc Brown suffered the embarrassment of singing Rags To Riches to the Mayor of Chesham (see Entry Number 123), Katherine Ryan took a similar but altogether more successful route — she performed her own rap song for the mayor, called “That’s Peter Hudson (You Know That You Can Trust Him)”. The mayor looked baffled but with more than a hint of impressed.
Why is it so good: Unlike Doc Brown, there’s a kind of devil-may-care confidence to Katherine here — she’s written a song, and it’s so good that it will replace the Lord’s Prayer in this region. In the first stanza she sets out her stall: children will sing it every day when they go to school, in praise to The Big Man Upstairs (ie, not God, but the mayor) — that’s right, this song is so good it will make children want to replace God with the mayor. Katherine doesn’t just rap, she sings her own hook (like Drake!), and it’s well-researched. “Is he sexy? Affirmative! Brown hair, brown eyes, Conservative. Volunteers, but that’s not all — three kids but only one came from his balls”. Who cares if the rhythm and rhyme structure is all over the place — if you come to the Mayor’s town hall and start rapping about a) the fact that he’s basically God and b) the number of children that come from his balls, you deserve to be on this list.
Position in task: First, because that’s Peter Hudson, you know that you can trust him, yeah.
Watch out for: the way Katherine twerks awkwardly, and tries to start a crowd-wave as she leaves (to an entirely empty room).
68: Rhod Gilbert Won’t Stop Bringing In That Picture Of Greg (Series 7, Throughout)
Task: Almost every prize task in Series 7.
What happened: Throughout this series, Rhod would nearly always submit the same photo of Greg — wearing nothing but a pair of Speedos and a “come hither look” — in the prize task category. Most notably he enters it in the Best Key category (with the picture as a graph, and the key denoting which parts are Greg and which parts are Speedos), and in the most surprisingly beautiful thing (when Rhod showed the lights of Port Talbot, with Greg’s semi-nude body photoshopped on top).
Why is it so good: it’s strangely sweet — it’s like we’re all being let in on a private in-joke that Greg and Rhod share. Because Rhod keeps on using it — the cynic would say it’s because he has no interesting keys in his life — it becomes something the audience looks forward to. It’s not “what has Rhod brought in”, but “how can Rhod crowbar in that photo of Greg into this week’s prize task”. Also, just saying, but if that photo was taken in 2010, Greg would have been 42. If I look like that at 42 I would love for it to be shown every week on Dave. Rhod, go nuts.
Position in task: Not applicable, but I do have a graph we can look at…
Watch out for: Greg losing patience on the final show when Rhod says he’s brought in a picture of Holepunch from Gladiators and then shows yep you get the picture. “Oh for God’s sake…there will be physical consequences.”
67: Katy Wix Steals The Taskmaster Trophy From Kerry Godliman’s House (Series 9, Ep 7)
Task: Best thing they’ve taken from someone else’s house. (Prize task)
What happened: Katy Wix reveals her item for the Prize Task is the Taskmaster trophy from Series 7 winner, Kerry Godliman. That’s already fairly sacrilegious — the idea of a non-winner touching the golden face of Greg Davies, why it makes a mockery of the whole show, etc — but worse was to come, as Katy reveals that Kerry kept the trophy, on its side, in the garage — “the shittest room in the house”.
Why is it so good: Greg Davies looked — quite reasonably — furious. The idea that someone could win the trophy, an exact replica of Greg’s golden bonce, and then, not even a year afterwards, just lose track of it so badly that Katy Wix could steal it from the garage? I mean, sure, let’s be realistic here — no-one is putting their Taskmaster trophy up next to their proper awards. Noel Fielding’s mantelpiece probably doesn’t have a spot for Greg Davies’ weird plastic head next to his Mighty Boosh BAFTA. But still, the scandal! The drama! The sordid little insight we got into former champion Kerry Godliman’s decor! It’s the comedic equivalent of giving someone a birthday present and then seeing a suspiciously similar item in the window of a nearby charity shop a few weeks’ later. Greg has every right to feel aggrieved.
Position in task: Second, behind David Baddiel’s royal bog roll.
Watch out for: Katy telling Kerry that she needed to borrow her cat-box — and then using that cat-box to transport the head. Great subterfuge. Although Katy probably could have carried it out of the house under her arm for all Kerry would have noticed.
66: Phil Wang’s Hulahooping Pendulum Draws The Eye (Series 7, Ep 9)
Task: Hula.
What happened: Because James and Phil joined the series relatively late, they were unable to participate in the “wear a fez in an unusual situation” task. Instead, a month or so before the live shows, they were told to hula — and then told that during the live shows they would be made to hula again, with points being given to the biggest improvement shown. There’s a whole extra drama here about James Acaster — he practiced like mad in preparation for the live show but then choked horribly, his hoop falling down within seconds, before picking up the hoop again and showing the world that he was actually pretty competent at hulaing now (“I’m really good now!” he yells, hips gyrating, hoop spinning, crowd whooping). But no-one really remembers this. All they really remember is Wang’s skintight jumpsuit during the hulaing — and the rhythmic, almost hypnotic, effect it had on his namesake.
Why is it so good: Phil’s Wang was sort of the sixth contestant in this series of Taskmaster — because of Phil’s choice of outfit (one which he claims he didn’t realise was quite so revealing before he chose it) it’s always there, like an ever-present elephant (or prominent part of an elephant) in the room. This, one would argue, is its most terrible incarnation — the slow motion footage of Phil gyrating, the member flopping about in the jumpsuit like a bright yellow angry parliamentarian, will haunt me (and probably every audience member) for the rest of my life. Greg is shellshocked: “Did anyone else find that as traumatic as I did? I could not take my eyes off of it.” Phil, in fairness, looks genuinely ashamed. Maybe next time wear something a bit baggier?
Position in task: Last, but let’s be honest, it was never about the task.
Watch out for: Greg trying to move off the subject but finding himself consistently going back to it: “It doesn’t matter sometimes how ornate the grandfather clock is, the pendulum draws the eye.”
65: David Baddiel Adds Wooden Spoons To His Lasso (Series 9, Ep 5)
Task: Lasso Alex. You must remain behind the line at all times.
What happened: After one single attempt at lassoing Alex (with a genuinely good “Yeee hawww but which ends up somewhere around the knees), David Baddiel wonders aloud if there’s another way around this. Reasonable enough start — Taskmaster is often about thinking laterally and considering things from different angles. Baddiel then gets a wooden spoon from the caravan and attaches it to the lasso. This has no discernable effect, except to make the lasso more unwieldy. He then goes to the kitchen and gets four more spoons, attaching them to the lasso with tape. This also has no discernable effect, except to make it four times more unwieldy. In the end Baddiel abandons the spoons (“they haven’t helped”), gets an American football from the shed, tapes it to the lasso, stands on a stepladder, gets Alex to kneel (“You don’t have to pray”, he says, as Alex puts his hands together nervously), and finally gets the lasso vaguely over Alex’s neck (with a lot of jiggling). A glorious, terrible mess, like watching a confused badger trying to work out how to use a stapler.
Why is it so good: As Greg points out, there is probably no-one else on the planet who would have thought that the way to improve a lasso would be to tie wooden spoons to it. David Baddiel’s brain really is a medical marvel — especially because, once he put on the spoon and he realised it wasn’t working, his first thought wasn’t “Oh, it’s probably because I’ve put a wooden spoon on it,” it was “oh, I haven’t got enough wooden spoons.” There’s a kind of weird fascination watching David Baddiel on Taskmaster because he seems to know that everything he’s doing is terrible, and yet he does it anyway — it’s like his body is coming up with ideas and his head is just a hostage, fully cognisant of the disaster that is coming but completely unable to stop it.
Position in task: Last (wooden spoon).
Watch out for: Alex Horne struggling to stop from laughing as Baddiel swings the spoony lasso of doom around his head. Alex was wearing a helmet for this task, but he probably thought it was just a precaution — he didn’t bet on one of the contestants creating a whirling weapon capable of jamming a kitchen utensil in his skull.
64: Doc Brown Catches A Fish Alive (Series 2, Ep 2)
Task: Create a video for a nursery rhyme.
What happened: While some went minimalist (Joe Wilkinson mumbled his way through Old McDonald), others went for cutting edge pop culture (Richard Osman doing a parody of the video for The Verve’s Bitter Sweet Symphony from nineteen years ago), Doc Brown played to his strengths — a magnificent new rap rendition of “Once I Caught A Fish Alive”, imbuing it with a sense of truth (starting it with “hashtag truestory”) and gritty edginess (pulling off his glove to show a genuinely bloody hand), and ending in that most perfect way — punching a fish square in the gills on its face.
Why is it so good: This is a million miles away from Doc Brown’s previous appearance on the countdown in front of the Mayor of Chesham — this is Doc in his element, dressed in waders, rapping to the camera on the banks of the Thames about a fish he caught and subsequently let go because “the little motherfucker bit my finger, yo”. It is surprisingly violent — Doc reveals that he punched that salmon so many times that he genuinely got cuts on his hand — and like Greg you do have to wonder what Doc’s problem with fish is. Regardless, a great artist will suffer for their art, and from that pain came something quite beautiful. Sure, he might have had scales embedded in his hand for a few days afterwards, but it was worth it.
Position in task: First, alongside Jon Richardson’s blind mice mayhem.
Watch out for: The way Doc starts with a “‘sup kids”, and a diss on the entire genre: “you know a lot of these nursery rhymes chat pure jibberish”. Nothing like starting off your seminal work by tearing down the false idols that have come before you.
63: James Acaster Is Told To Put On A Boiler Suit Midway Through Another Task (Series 7, Ep 10)
Task: Tie yourself up as securely as possible.
What happened: On the surface, a fairly mundane task. Competitors had ten minutes to tie themselves up as securely as possible, and at the end of the ten minutes Alex would free them — longest time for Alex to untie them wins. Simple. Except earlier in the episode, the competitors were told of another task: when they heard the siren, they would have to stop what they were doing, go to the front door and put on a boiler suit. At the precise moment that James Acaster had tied his feet up in the “tie yourself up” task, the siren sounded. James mumbles an “oh SHIT” and starts hopping towards the front door as best he can, crashing into the ground, into a hedge, while yelling “you piece of shit Alex”, “this is the worst one so far”, “fucking arseholes” and “this is the worst day of my life”. A perfectly set-up moment of torture by the show, culminating in the most satisfying Acaster meltdown so far.
Why is it so good: It’s the way that James’ reaction is that combination of (understandable) fury but also of admiration — he’s swearing but filled with a grudging admiration. “I was pretty furious, but I was also thinking, ‘aww, this’ll be good.’” Most series seems to end with these devilishly cruel yet hilarious tasks in the finale — I’m thinking the horrible “seven tasks in one” task from Series 9 which is impossible if you happen to open up the wrong task first — but this perhaps is the most iconic. The way that it’s set up ominously at the start of the episode is almost like a piece of theatre, Chekhov’s boiler suit if you will — if a siren is introduced at the beginning of Act 1, you know that it must go off in Act 3. Despite this, I never saw it coming — it’s that perfect satisfying reveal, where as it’s happening you’re aware of the various moving parts but can’t see how it will fit together. When the siren sounds the realisation hits like a ton of bricks. It could only end this way: James flailing about with green twine around his legs as the siren blares. This was what it was all building up to. A perfectly crafted moment of chaos.
Position in task: Despite his fury, second place (only behind Rhod Gilbert)
Watch out for: the way James decides to a) tie up his feet first (the worst decision) and b) wear his yellow Kanye West sunglasses for this task — which immediately fall off when he starts hopping.
62: Liza Tarbuck Sends Her Wind-Up Man On An Extraordinary Adventure…With Her Foot (Series 6, Ep 2)
Task: Make this wind-up man go on the most extraordinary journey.
What happened: While Asim Chaudhry was the deserving champion of this task (see earlier in the countdown), Liza Tarbuck’s effort was memorable for slightly different reasons — she sent her wind-up man on a hazardous trip across a busy road, where it fractionally missed being crushed under the wheels of several cars and a bike. Then, after it had survived that ordeal, Liza stood over it, prodded it with her toe a few times, and then, with the camera close up on the little man…shattered it into a thousand pieces with one cruel stamp of the foot. Surprising, violent, shocking. Tarbuck.
Why is it so good: Liza Tarbuck — the most unpredictable Taskmaster contestant ever? She can show her affection for certain people and objects in strange ways (we’ve seen that already with the Lizard and the Drill), and yet the way she shows her contempt is far more terrifying. The way that she casually set it off across the road, into danger, the way she grimaced every time it survived, the way she mutters “he’s not dead, there’s life in him isn’t there”, before SMASHING her foot down on its poor defenceless body. She immediately goes to “comfort” the distressed Alex — “It’s OK, he didn’t feel a thing… I needed to put him out of his misery, it was horrible.” A beat, then… “look at his head.” This is Liza at her most brutal, her most arbitrary. And what was the wind-up man’s crime? Why did he have to die? “He was so tinny.” This is pure Liza Tarbuck — she had decided immediately to crush that wind-up man. She’s acting calmly, purposefully, and yet on impulse. She will take one look at you and make a decision on your fate there and then. As soon as she meets you, she knows whether you will die under her foot. Chilling.
Position in task: Second (although in reality, is not death the ultimate extraordinary adventure?)
Watch out for: Alex’s look of horror as the wind-up man is crushed — partially because it was a brutal act of violence, and partially because at this point they had only bought the one wind-up man to share between the five contestants.
61: Jo Brand Takes A Loo Break In The Middle Of A Timed Team Task (Series 9, Ep 10)
Task: Make the best cup of tea in this teacup. You must use all the equipment that’s locked to the table. You may not use anything from the kitchen. You must wear the rubber gloves throughout. (Team task)
What happened: In a task where they only had ten minutes, Jo Brand announced at the very start of the task (while Team Grumpy Married Couple were rummaging around for items to use to make a cup of tea) that she was going for a wee. David Baddiel entered the lab again and quietly told Alex that Jo was having a loo break, before looking forlornly back at the door, like a five year old at pre-school when it’s play time but their best friend is on the toilet so they don’t know if they’re allowed to play or not. After a few minutes, Jo ambles back in, carrying a roll of toilet paper as her own personal property, like she’s staying at a youth hostel and doesn’t trust the ply count of the local area. Then they just get on with the task like nothing ever happened. Remarkable.
Why is it so good: This was not the first time that Jo Brand and David Baddiel took their time during a very much timed team task, but it was perhaps the most perilous. The way that she casually just suggests that she’s going to the loo and David’s confused “alright” is instantly fascinating — it’s like a pilot saying to their co-pilot “you got this, right? I’m just going to pop to the bog,” while they’re crash-landing. Greg also makes a very good point in the studio — when Jo returns, with her roll of toilet paper, David naturally tries to use it in the task (to strain the tea. Proper “wooden spoons on a lasso” thinking there.) Jo dismisses the idea immediately, so the question remains: why did she bring a roll of toilet paper back with her?! Did she just need some at home and thought she’d nab some from the set? If so, fair play. So many confusing, brilliant decisions, but to Jo they all make perfect sense.
Position in task: First — which says a lot about Team Gamble, Matafeo and Wix, who had zero loo breaks.
Watch out for: the way that David Baddiel suggests stirring the tea with his “dainty finger”, covered in a rubber glove. Which raises another interesting question — did Jo keep the gloves on while going to the loo?! WE NEED ANSWERS.
Bang! We’re into the Top 60 now, and so many things are still up in the air. Will Greg ever be able to get the image of Phil’s wang out of his head? Where is Peter Hudson now? Can we still trust him? What are the long term effects of duct tape on the eyes? And do I regret starting this countdown from 124? (Yes, yes I do.)
