Why We Love: Open All Hours

When Ronnie Barker first played tight-fisted greengrocer Albert Arkwright 40 years ago, he encapsulated the old stereotype to a tee.

Miserly, world weary, contemptuous of his less-than-intelligent customers, but still savvy enough to know he depended on them, Arkwright was a caricature of what everybody expected a small-time shopkeeper to be like.

The BBC's announcement that several members of the original cast were returning for a Christmas revival caused quite a stir, with the new show becoming one of the most hotly-anticipated programmes in the festive schedule. Of course Barker, who died eight years ago, was conspicuous by his absence, but David Jason, who played his long-suffering nephew.

Granville, returned to take his late uncle's place behind the counter. Lynda Baron, who as the buxom Nurse Gladys Emmanuel was Arkwright's love interest – or more the point, lust interest – was also in the new show.

Open All Hours began as a one-off show in the Ronnie Barker series Seven Of One, screened in 1973, but its potential was quickly spotted and three years later it returned as a full series.

It was an idea which would run and run. A total of four series were made from 1976 until it finished in 1985. It pulled in millions of viewers and has been repeated countless times.

Arkwright's trademark stammer – his catchphrapse 'f-f-fetch yer cloth, Granville' became the stuff of TV folklore – was added to the script at Barker's request. The vicious cash register, which nearly chopped his fingers off every time he used it, was also Barker's idea, and it was writer Roy Clarke's willingness to listen to his leading actor that made it such a success.

But a corner shop was also an ideal setting for a sitcom as, in addition to the main plot and the running gags about Arkwright's stinginess and stuttering, there was also the interaction between the shopkeeper and his often gullible customers.

And boy, some of them were stupid.There was Mavis, the dripping wet housewife – and one time girlfriend of Granville – who found the decision about whether to invest in a large tin of scotch broth an agonising ordeal.

"I can't cut it in half Mavis," responded Arkwright. "It all f-flops out. Tell you what. I'll sell you a large tin but I'll only charge you for two small tins."

Then there was Gordon, the local loudmouth who had been convinced by Arkwright that Jamaican ginger cake was an aphrodisiac. After a few hours of Gordon bragging about his new-found prowess down at the allotment, Arkwright was welcoming a steady stream of customers in dark glasses, all demanding their ginger cake in plain wrapping.

Arkwright often belittled his customers, but always in a way that was too subtle for them to understand. And there were some cracking one-liners and put-downs.

Another running joke was the supposed promiscuity of Arkwright's sister, who died while Granville was a child, leaving his uncle to bring him up. One one occasion when Granville was serving a customer, Arkwright chipped in: "Just take the man's money and smile Granville, that's what your mother would have done."

With Arkwright seemingly still coming to terms with the end of rationing, Nurse Gladys doing her rounds in a Morris Minor, not to mention the perennially downtrodden Granville dreaming wistfully of a more exciting life, it was a series which oozed whimsy.

And that is why people still love it. It's of a gentle, dry-witted comedy, which all the family can enjoy.

Millions tuned into the Christmas special to find what exactly became of Granville. And there's probably a fair few TV execs wondering whether there is the potential for another full series.

Old Arkwright would be proud. V-v-very proud indeed.