That's the real face of entertainment

Veteran comic Jimmy Tarbuck has rules for keeping his feet on the ground while some around him in show business are losing their grip. "Never believe it. It ain't fairyland and it ain't real," he says in the second part of this documentary series about the history of light entertainment.

Tarbie shows little patience with talk show host Simon Dee, whose rise and fall in the 1960s and 1970s is the stuff of TV history. One minute he was the BBC's star turn. As the host of the channel's first chat show, he shot to superstardom, the first TV star to acquire pop star status and earn more than the Prime Minister. Only one thing got in the way of this charmed existence continuing - his ego. Dee, looking older but none the wiser, talks about "my producer, my director, my team" and makes clear their role was to do what he told them.

Tarbie and Max Bygraves, whose survival in a tough business would indicate they know the secret of a long-lasting career, are both critical of Dee's behaviour as they recall his fall from grace. He quit the BBC to be the star attraction at newly-created London Weekend Television. He made a fool of himself through his lack of discipline and air of self-importance. "I was not where I wanted to be, not with with guests I wanted and in a state of mental fatigue. That was the end of me," he recalls.

The series was pulled after six months. Dee faded into obscurity, occasionally resurfacing on programmes like this to recall his glory days.

If Dee is the main attraction, The Showbiz Set finds plenty of other titbits to get the memories flooding back. Say hello to Mary Whitehouse, self-styled clean up TV campaigner, as she claims the BBC launched us into the permissive society. As if people needed Auntie's help to learn how to misbehave. She passed the time counting how many times Alf Garnett said bloody in Till Death Us Do Part.

Sunday Night At The London Palladium was a casulaty of the new permissive era as TV variety shows were replaced by This is Tom Jones. At a cost of £20m, this was said to be the most expensive TV show ever made. No one knew the figure was simply plucked out of the air by Lew Grade for a press release.

Dee did have one further moment in the spotlight, after stealing a potato peeler. By one of those cruel ironies, he found himself in court being judged by his former BBC boss Bill Cotton, who was sitting as a JP.