Egypt: land of secrets and curses, pharaohs and fakirs. And so it was to Egypt that Living sent its biggest fakir, Derek Acorah, the footballer turned security guard turned TV medium. Mr Acorah, you may recall, not so long ago went to Bodmin Prison where he claimed to be possessed by the spirit of a prison guard named Kreed Kafer. Kafer, spookily, was neither living nor dead but merely an anagram of “Derek Faker”. Living’s audience are a forgiving lot, however, not easily discouraged by tabloid exposés. After his fine work on Most Haunted, The Antiques Ghost Show and Ghost Towns, it was only right that the Liverpudlian chancer should be given a return ticket to Egypt. A man, after all, cannot spend a career chatting up anagrams in Bodmin.

Derek’s mission in Paranormal Egypt was to “investigate” the death of Rameses III. The pharaoh had expired after an attempt on his life led to a trial of conspirators whose number included one of his wives and one of his sons. His death has foxed historians for three millennia, but not Derek, who had the advantage of being able to interrogate the dead man himself. Derek’s spirit guide, a medieval Ethiopian curiously named Sam was excited. “He is way excited,” Derek confided to his co-presenter, the “historian” Tessa Dunlop, “absolutely over-the-top excited.”

The pair – trio if you count Sam – made a promising start at the pharaoh’s tomb in Cairo. Derek felt the “presence of greatness” flitting among the shadows. “Rameses, Rameses,” he cajoled, “please don’t move about.” Tessa gamely declared that Derek was freaking her out. But it was in the temple in Luxor that Derek’s gift came into its own. “Rameses is HERE, bless,” he announced. “He is showing me the Eiffel Tower in France. Why is he doing that?” And why was Derek shouting the name “Giovanni”, going on about being robbed and making stabbing gestures? Fortunately Mansour Boraik, the local director of antiquities, was on hand to explain that an archaeologist, Giovanni Belzoni, had in the 19th century transported the king’s sarcophagus to the Louvre. I felt the spectral presence of Wikipedia.

But what of his death? The Egyptian monarch, whose grasp of modern-day idiomatic Scouse was commendable, told Derek he had survived the attack for some months. “He died here of the affliction of injuries that caused a breakdown in his metabolisms which cause haemorrhage here,” explained Dr Derek, pointing to his own head, which was having difficulty forming sentences. It was more serious than that. Next thing, Derek collapsed and needed to be dragged to a stone slab where a member of the crew pleaded: “Stay with me, mate.” I fear he will. This series has seven more episodes to run.

It is Acorah’s relative success not his “gift” that spooks me. If you judge him as an actor, he is a bad one, with a limited repertoire of jerks, whoops and “serious” voices. His attempts at archaic language are just sad: “I have come to help you in such a manner and such a way as Rameses would have it be done.” Tessa, playing the easily frightened companion, is the better actor, although I fear for her credibility as a historian and pray Oxford does not rescind her degree. The show was a hoot.

The riskily named Don’t Call Me Stupid (ITV1) wasn’t so much. A cross between Faking Itand Celebrity Mastermind, it must have been devised by the same committee that, charged with designing a horse, brought forth a camel. The format entails two celebrities becoming overnight experts in each other’s subjects. Last night that meant hyper-inarticulate Bez from the Happy Mondays teaching posh “royal watcher” James Whitaker about Manchester pop music while Whitaker instructed the singer in royal etiquette. Tall orders both, although Bez reckoned he had a head start from watching period dramas (and who would have clocked him for an Elizabeth R devotee?).

After some of “the most desperate cramming since Jeremy Clarkson squeezed into a new pair of jeans” (the bon mot was quizmaster Alexander Armstrong’s) and some outside videocaming in each other’s manors, Bez and Whitaker did disappointingly well in the quiz. The programme looked as if less money had been spent on it than Acorah puts aside for ear studs. I hope it makes ITV shareholders happier than it made me.

Out of the box

— David Letterman has over here an influence far beyond his popularity. His CBS chat show has inspired Danny Baker, Chris Evans and Jonathan Ross’s shows. But when The Late Show is actually aired here few bother to watch, as Paramount Comedy, Skys One and Two and ITVs 2 and 4 can all testify. Now a new station, Diva TV, air the show again from this autumn. Good luck, I say. And this time let’s all remember to watch.

— Could more work be beckoning for Derek Acorah? Rumours are flying around – all denied, of course – that EastEnders is about to kill off Dot Cotton. Her smoking habit apparently needs to be punished pour encourager les autres. But the magnificently lined actress June Brown who plays her is 80 and still working. A finer testimony to nicotine it would be hard to find.

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