I sent in a voice tape, then got called in to meet the producers. They showed me clips of people in various stages of undress and mental disarray. We discussed whether the narration should be straight or tongue-in-cheek. Obviously, I thought the latter. Eurotrash was a way of getting risque material on air with a cheeky postcard giggle. It was meant to titillate in a way that could still be on terrestrial TV. We all thought it would be cancelled within seconds, so were quite cavalier about it. I can’t believe we got away with it so long – 16 series and endless specials. It was a guilty pleasure. My agent at the time said, “We won’t put this on your CV, darling.” With its surreal sketches, risqué cultural commentary and cheerily low productions values, Eurotrash was the late-night talkshow du jour in the 1990s, pulling in a whopping 2-3 million viewers per week at the height of its popularity. They bestowed fame on so many of their guests –who can forget Yvette Horner and her accordion, Pipi and Popo (cardboard giraffes) and the tragic Lola Ferrari. Items included how to make poo poo jewellery, painting with poo poo and… yes all things poo. Best described as a surrealist late night magazine programme with nudity and lots of Germans, Eurotrash was essential viewing, mainly because you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. De Caunes and Gaultier being the ‘dream team’ of presenters, sort of a French Morcambe and Wise, but with Eric wearing a skirt/kilt.

Eurotrash is a true stand-alone programme, never seen anything like it before or since, and re-watching selected highlights of this box set from Network genuinely made me wish I had the whole set to go through again. Gaultier left at the end of series 7 and de Caunes then co-presented with a range of guest presenters none of which I can remember. It’s a common trope –“Oh, they couldn’t make [INSERT SHOW NAME HERE] today!” and a lot of the time it’s simply hyperbole.

50. Zombie Lake (1981)