Alison Rowat’s TV Preview: The Fringe, Fame and Me; Tom Daly: Me for being illegal

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Tom Daly: Illegal to me. Zinc Television London Ltd., Luke Korzun Martin.

Tom Daly is a brave boy. Of course, there is diving. Height, complicated routines, high risk of injury – the stuff of nightmares for most of us. Maybe they had the same daredevil streak that recently made them yes to presenting The One Show. The reaction on Twitter, it’s fair to say, was lukewarm.

The Olympic gold medalist talks to fellow athletes in the documentary, Tom Daly: Illegal to Be Me (BBC1, Tuesday, 9 p.m.).

The hour-long film begins with footage from London 2012. The Daily tells us that out of about 11,000 athletes, only 23 were openly LGBT. “There were more athletes named James than there were people who lived outside,” he says. Daly was among those remaining unbeaten.

The hook for the film, and the inspiration for the title, is the Commonwealth Games in Birmingham, which comes to a close next week. Daly has done his job on that too. More than half of the 56 Commonwealth countries have laws making homosexuality illegal. The death penalty applies in Pakistan, Nigeria and Brunei. “I want to find out where so much hate came from,” he says. It’s a huge task, perhaps too much for a film, but Daly should be commended for trying.

He flies to Pakistan and Jamaica to talk to LGBT athletes, most of whom need to hide their identities. There is a common thread running through the interview: fear of risk and violence. Videos of some of the attacks have been posted on the web and Daily is shocked. No wonder one interviewer is so afraid of retaliation that he writes a letter to Daly.

Daly feels that the Commonwealth Games should do more to make it clear that it is an inclusive event where everyone is welcome. He wants the organizers to explicitly say, for example, that no country with anti-gay laws will be allowed to host the Games. Also, and just as important, he would like to see a pride flag at the opening ceremony.

The film is at its strongest when Daly talks about his struggle to come out and accept his sexuality. Now happily married with a child, it was not easy for Daly, with his school days a special test.

He is very nice, relaxed and fluent on camera, and gets a lot out of his interviewers. The One Show test by Live Telly may have come a long way for now, but such is their dedication that I wouldn’t bet against Daily coming back soon.

It’s that time of year again, when Edinburgh rents out his flat to the world and escapes to the sea, leaving the rest of us to deal with the festival and its accompanying crowd. We really shouldn’t be mourning. Most countries will bite your hand at the world’s biggest arts festival to rock up every year.

It is part of a love-hate relationship, something Scots have with the fringe. While some familiar criticism finds its way into The Fringe, Fame and Me (BBC Scotland, Mondays, 10 pm; BBC 2 Wednesdays, 9 pm), it is for the most part a love letter to Edinburgh from some of entertainment’s biggest names. Is.

They’re all here, including Phoebe Waller-Bridge, who remembers how she ended up writing fleabags on the train to Edinburgh. The rest was prize-winning history and the job writing for Bond.

That’s the Edinburgh dream; Some unknown rock rises up, does its thing, becomes a hit word of mouth, then returns to London ready to take on the world (or at least a spot in a panel show). As most people here will testify, don’t believe the hype. Eddie Izzard was the only overnight success on the Fringe If One Night Is Ten Years. He failed, failed, and failed some more before finally doing the right thing. While he may see the funny side now, he admits that Edinburgh can be “brutal”.

Like many talking heads, Izzard is filmed again in the middle streets back in the capital. Also returning is Alexei Sayle, who claims to have brought stand-up to the fringe in the early 1980s. Smriti Galli takes him out of town to a farm and caravan where he stayed. It’s still there.

One of the things that disappointed Salle, and still does, is the class division at the fringes. Frankie Boyle agrees. He thought it was going to be very middle class, but it was much more than that. To keep a show out of reach of many people, serious money can be needed to show it. Others have rightly complained that there are not enough black performers and women, and the festival in general has a white, male, Ladakhi, North London feel to it.

For all this, it only takes a dream come true story to erase any misery and make the cast and audience come back. Bill Bailey remembers arriving in Edinburgh at 6 a.m. on a sunny day, the city is glowing and the miracle of miracles, a pub, is open. It was like Narnia, they say.