The Road To Coronation Street (BBC4, 9pm).

DECEMBER 9, 1960, 6.55pm.

Minutes before the live transmission of the first episode of Coronation Street and the cat from the opening shot has gone walkabout.

So has the creator and writer of the series Tony Warren. He’s throwing up in the toilets at Granada TV in Manchester. And as for actress Pat Phoenix, she’s running frantically along the corridors trying to reach the studio in time for the 7pm transmission.

Giving birth isn’t easy, especially if you are making a TV show that the bosses aren’t convinced will be any good or even necessary. But Daran Little’s account of the beginnings of Corrie rings true, capturing the emotional chaos and corporate mayhem of getting a programme on air.

That the story of ITV’s most successful programme is being told on the BBC adds a extra frisson to the event.

This is, it must be said, a brilliantly entertaining rollercoaster as Warren, a failed actor, determines to bring a slice of Northern life to TV screens dominated by the middle and upper classes.

Despite his tender years, 23-year-old Warren (brilliantly played by David Dawson) doesn’t lack confidence. “Are you good?” an executive asks as he hands over a script.

“No, I’m brilliant,” comes the reply.

He certainly knew what he was doing with Coronation Street, which celebrates its 50th anniversary this year. “I want to write something new, something with dirt under its fingernails,” he says.

That something was life among ordinary people in the back streets and on the cobbles of Coronation Street – or Florizel Street, to give the show its original title.

The makers changed it after a tea lady casually remarked that it “sounds like disinfectant”.

Not everyone thought like him at Granada, especially the big bosses, brothers Sidney and Cecil Bernstein (Steven Berkoff and Henry Goodman). They, and others, couldn’t see how the humdrum lives of ordinary people would grip the nation.

A photo of showman P T Barnum on the wall was a reminder that “we are supposed to be making the greatest shows on earth” –- and that didn’t mean broadcasting programmes about working class life in the North of England. They felt they were making television for everyone, leaving “privileged TV” for the BBC to do.

AGAINST the odds, a pilot programme was made. Bosses were worried by the accents spoken by the regional actors that Warren insisted should be employed. The common opinion was that Northern country accents were suitable for comedy, not drama.

Failed actor Warren had definite ideas of both his characters and who should play them. He persuaded Doris Speed out of retirement to play Annie Walker. The young actor called William Roache, cast as Ken Barlow, didn’t expect to stay long as he was “on the road to a career in movies”. Pat Phoenix epitomised Warren’s idea of brash, upfront Elsie Tanner.

The main problem was finding his Ena Sharples, the acid-tongued women who ruled the roost at the Glad Tidings mission hall. The actress used in the pilot show wasn’t right, putting Warren under pressure to cut the character.

As a last desperate measure he suggested Violet Carson, an actress who had tried to have him sacked when he’d worked with her. “She’s a nightmare,” he tells everyone. But she was perfect as Ena.

Lynda Baron, Nurse Gladys in Open All Hours, makes a late but memorable entrance as Ena, with Celia Imrie as Doris Speed and James Roache as his father (William Roache). Confusingly the actor is playing Ken Barlow’s son in Corrie at the moment).

Best of all is Jesse Wallace, about to return to EastEnders as Kat Slater, but here channeling the spirit of Pat Phoenix to perfection. It’s not an impersonation, although the look, the attitude and the accent are good enough to make you think you are watching Phoenix.