Your turn?

THE critics haven't all been kind, but one at least was complimentary. While others sneered about the acts, the singing dogs and dancing horses, the reviewer in The Stage, the well-regarded actors' newspaper, had much more pleasant things to say.

"If the standard of the show can be maintained across all nine days, then not only will the show be a success, but there's a strong chance that the humble live variety act, a staple part of The Stage's professional audience throughout our 127-year history, could well enjoy a much-needed revival," he wrote.

The show to which he pinned such hope is Britain's Got Talent, the latest ITV invention. A move away from pop star programmes, with which, arguably, we've got bored, it has the dangerous distinction of saying anyone can enter. Thus, over several first-round heats, being screened as nightly one-hour shows, we're seeing acts of every type, from kids and drag queens to old men. They take their places on the stage before an often-vocal audience and try to win the judges' backing for a place in the next round.

The judging panel comprises three - of course it wouldn't be a show without the nasty Simon Cowell, though former editor Piers Morgan can be pretty mean himself - and acts which make the trio cry (Amanda Holden, as the third, is always mopping up her tears) are guaranteed to be approved. But if the show has helped revive the old variety tradition, there might be some who'd say it never went away.

As recently as 50 years ago, a town would hardly be complete without its variety theatre. The crowds would flock there every week - before the days of television, they'd watch their entertainment live - and if the top name on the bill was someone everybody knew, you might be lucky to get in.

The show would start with dancing girls, before a comic took the stage. While many never made it big, this helped make others into stars, and what they learned at local theatres paved the way for their careers.

Then there would be something more dramatic, which often meant a circus spot such as some juggling or acrobatics. Next came the second top of the bill, who closed the first half of the show, and could be someone like a singer or musician. The second half brought similar acts before the main one took the stage, who could be someone quite prestigious like the comic Arthur Askey or the black singer Billy Daniels. At last the orchestra would play God Save the Queen and other music, and leave the audience to go with tunes resounding in their ears.

Yet, with the rise of television came the theatres' demise, so that by 1956 their numbers dwindled. But whlie the public may have stayed at home, they still sought entertainment, and it seemed as if variety was poised to meet their need.

Still lodged in many people's memories as the genre at its best, the cult TV show Opportunity Knocks first hit the airwaves on the radio. It was devised by Hughie Green, who flirted shamelessly each week with fellow presenter Monica Rose, and though the format was quite simple, it proved a runaway success.

Each time Green introduced six acts of varied quality and content, including one aspiring chef who cooked a veal dinner in less than three minutes, and someone who sculpted margarine. The programme's viewers chose the winner through a simple postal vote, although the infamous 'clapometer' let the audience have their say. This had no scientific basis, and reputedly was a man who merely guessed the clapping levels, yet it was a feature that helped make the programme's name.

The show launched many a career, including names like Bonnie Langford, Little and Large and Freddie Starr, and even after its demise - its golden age on television ran from 1961 to 1978 - it was revived in 1987 with Bob Monkhouse as its host. The programme had its final fling with one last series in 1990, when it appeared with the new figurehead of Les Dawson.

Another similar show was New Faces. While Hughie Green could seem too kind, appearing unctuous or servile, there was no risk of this approach from one of its most famous critics. Though not around from the beginning - she joined the show for its revival, from 1986 to 1988 - the sharp-tongued journalist Nina Myskow had contestants living in fear. This early version of Simon Cowell earned the epithet "Miss Cow", and seemed to relish every insult that she heaped upon hopefuls' heads. Despite her attitude, however, some did go on to make it big, and the comedian Lenny Henry, plus Joe Pasquale and Victoria Wood, can thank New Faces for their fame.

It's not yet certain if Britain's Got Talent will produce such good results, but there is plenty of incentive, with £100,000 for the overall winner, along with a slot among the stars at this year's Royal Variety Performance. Perhaps Piers Morgan summed it up when he assessed the programme's worth. "Our competition is Big Brother all week, so it's a bunch of irritating young and incredibly gormless women twittering about inane nonsense, or Simon Cowell giving a critical critique to a pig. No contest."

Britain's Got Talent will be on ITV nightly, culminating in the grand final on Sunday.