This couple are not strangers. Both were previously employed as joint presenters on many a late-night Granada debating forum and topical discussion show; and at the time, both seemed to have emerged from this period of partnership unscathed. Wilson, though, was always and obviously the star back then – his colleague a mere supporting player and accessory. Lucy seemed to know that, and Wilson knew that she knew: consequently everything seemed to be for the best.

But then came a parting of the ways and, for Meacock, the opportunity to stamp her own personality upon the vast rostrum of regional programming Granada paraded around the schedules. Up until recently, she had an entire, excruciating 60 minutes at her disposal in the shape of Granada Tonight. But then its airtime was halved, the original programme title Granada Reports restored, and finally Wilson given the call. The question now was how could Meacock maintain her unblemished track record for introducing items in a hoarse half-whisper as if some terrible blasphemy had been uttered, faced with the charmingly clumsy and avuncular patter of the man who bankrupted New Order.

On his first show back, a month ago, Tony seemed to evoke an impression, not altogether pleasant, of having never been away. What was most evident right from the start, however, was a spectacular lack of rapport with his co-host. This was a compound problem, best described as a two-handed programme being presented by two people single-handedly. It made for distressing and embarrassing viewing. You welcomed, more than usual, the smooth professionalism and wry turn-of-phrase of the Beeb’s man in the North West, Gordon Burns, who followed on the other side at 6.30pm.

Several weeks in, and there’s been a change of sorts, but by the looks of it a rather rancorous one imposed in as cold and clinical a way imaginable. Tonight’s show began in a brutal manner, with every possible element – camera shot, paragraph, sentence, and phrase – divided up between the hosts as equally as possible. So though we discovered Tony and Lucy sitting together at one desk, the headlines were parcelled out between them, with each trying to outdo the other in melodrama: “JAILED!” “SHAMED!” “STILL SMILING!” Then the first report proper was introduced by Tony in an extreme angled camera shot that cut Lucy out of the frame altogether and made room instead for a huge screen behind his right shoulder. This arrangement lasted for precisely one sentence, before we switched to a second, different, shot, this time of Lucy, also by herself, and also chaperoned by huge screen, now behind her left shoulder. After another sentence it was back to Tony; and so it continued, ping pong-ing from the one to the other, the impact of the story deflated by the acrobatic and fussy camerawork that dictated we should never see the two presenters in the same shot.

The agenda of the first half of the programme was a well-trodden one: cock-ups and cover-ups, usually at the expense of an innocent member of the local community, with red-tape and bureaucracy to blame. One story nailed two Granada obsessions in one go: guns and the Church of England. While Lucy tip-toed round her script in a decidedly prim and prissy demeanour, Tony went for the opposite tack, reading his lines, trying to sound appalled and intrigued by every single detail. This was an improvement on a month ago, when he fluffed words, shouted, spoke over other people and missed camera cues; but with restraint has come an increasingly latent preacher streak. “Still on the more frightening areas of modern culture,” he linked from one story to another. “Simon was … a HEROIN addict,” he whispered, pausing for effect. These displays of emotion could not help but appear comical and somewhat misplaced, crammed as they were into links of 15 seconds maximum.

Lucy got to introduce an item on the last year’s riots in Oldham, but then for reasons never made clear handed over to reporter Rachel Bullock sitting “in the Granada newsroom” for a pointless commentary on events that she could just as easily delivered herself. Tony then fought back with “Some good business news for the region,” focusing on an upturn in the fortunes of Littlewoods – undoubtedly a relevant story but perhaps not one that warranted a long report which said little and showed less, relying on a rather limited selection of archive clips.

If Tony had appeared rather sullen and constrained so far, an extended report on prostitution gave him the chance to become more animated, principally because it involved a live interview. To discuss the policing of “the so-called oldest profession,” Tony relished in taking us over to Liverpool for a chat with the leader of the Council. “Councillor Storey,” he began, before quickly switching to “Mike”. Storey was equally informal in return – “As you know Tony …;” – but all these pleasantries and flourishes somewhat fudged the essence of the story, as did Tony’s wild proclamation, “But people are going to say, and I hate to say it, Liverpool City Council: PIMPS!” This section then ended on the most sprawling and ambitious of notes, as Lucy piped up, “If you have a view on prostitution, please let us know.” An even taller order than on first impression, seeing as Lucy didn’t tell us how to get in touch.

Once all the bad news was out of the way the programme rushed eagerly towards its other chief preoccupation: obscure stories from anywhere in the world that have involved People From The Region. In this, at least, nothing whatsoever has changed at Granada, regardless of Wilson’s return. Conferring lofty stature on the most minute and irrelevant of topics, both Tony and Lucy entered into this age-old pastime with relish. Particularly plentiful was, as ever, the sports news. An enduring aspect of Granada regional reporting for a tragically long time has been this predilection for delivering smug-sounding reports about sporting events, no matter how large or small, famous or obscure, home or abroad, that are deemed relevant because they feature somebody born in the north west of England. The first round matches at Wimbledon were therefore covered, but only because one of them included a player born somewhere near Wigan. More desperate was an in-depth report of the Germany v South Korea World Cup semi-final match, because, obviously, German player Dietmar Hamann has graced the pitches of Anfield. A quote from David Beckham, “the north-west midfielder” lest we forget, was also shoehorned in, presumably because he also plays in said region. This whole feature was also introduced with a tacky slide and the ugly caption “Our Rising Sons”.

The jumble of sports reports was then summed up as evidence of “A good day, well, a bad day, erm, well, a mixed day.” Who for? “The region” of course. Tony banged the side of his head to stop himself talking. Sensing the show had once again run away from him, and that it was almost too late, he tried to wrap things up with the revelation that although his mum used to have a motorbike, she wouldn’t let him have one. “Quite right too,” snapped Lucy, smacking her lips. “I’ll say goodnight,” said Tony to himself.

Dancing round each other, occasionally venturing a one-liner or caustic comment, yet most of the time sulking next to their respective giant screens, Tony and Lucy failed to convince. Wilson needs the right context to kick back, exploit and wind up; sadly, for the moment, Granada Reports is not it, and maybe never will be again. It was one hell of a relief to turn over and find Gordon Burns – on time, immaculate, reassuring, with news, features and, naturally, “our Commonwealth Games Desk”

Given that Granada’s regional opt-out timeslots have so often been occupied by the works of Tony Wilson, it’s only fitting that they should use one of said timeslots to transmit a self-produced retrospective of his unique and truly individual career path.

Although the documentary had clearly been produced to tie in with the release of 24 Hour Party People, a feature film that tells the story of the rise and fall of his record label Factory with an appropriate mixture of artiness and wit, this documentary did not concentrate solely on his adventures in the music industry. Instead, it gave equal prominence and consideration to the role for which he is best known to the majority of television viewers – as a reporter and presenter for Granada, with a career that spans an incredibly disparate set of televisual genres. Like him or loathe him, you can’t deny that Wilson has always represented the embodiment of Granada’s key broadcasting strengths – namely their commitment to covering the arts scene and local concerns – and this programme set out to celebrate his erratic but always interesting progression through television and music.

As might be expected, the coverage of Wilson’s involvement in the music industry was both extensive and detailed. Factory Records and its attendant nightclub The Hacienda were explored at great length, with a satisfying amount of attention being paid to the less well-known acts that have appeared on the label over the years (indeed, the superb Durutti Column provided the documentary’s theme tune, Anthony). However, equal prominence was also given to Wilson’s vital but little-documented days as the presenter and main instigator of a chain of shows for Granada that sought to provide a televisual platform for what were then emergent and exciting new sounds.

So It Goes was the first British television programme devoted to the punk rock phenomenon, giving significant exposure to the likes of Iggy Pop and marking the first ever television appearance of The Sex Pistols. Several former members of the programme’s production team were interviewed for this documentary, and all of them spoke of how much they respected his opinion and input into production, as he was actually going out to live shows on a regular basis and discovering bands and music for himself. The section on So It Goes was also remarkable in that it covered the comic contributions to the programme – which came from figures no less notable than Clive James and Peter Cook – as though they were just “one of those things” that show up old television programmes!

Another landmark Wilson-driven music show covered by the documentary was The Other Side of Midnight, a late 1980s show that sought to cover the arts in general but is now chiefly remembered for providing early television exposure for bands like The Stone Roses, The La’s, Happy Mondays and Inspiral Carpets. While The Other Side of Midnight has been raided for many clip shows in the past, including a 1996 documentary on Granada’s laudable history of music programming, the reference here was fleeting and Wilson was keen to stress that the programme dealt with the wider sphere of arts and not just indie bands. As the musical content of the programmes was his responsibility, it would be easy for him to retrospectively rely on that as an easy boost to his reputation, and the fact that he chose to concentrate on the programme’s general challenging nature instead cast both him and the production team in an extremely positive light.

Meanwhile, the considerable airtime devoted to studying Wilson’s television career was equally impressive. The production team had clearly gone to great lengths in scouring the archives to locate material that was either interesting or useful in illustrating points, and the sheer wealth and variety of footage on display here is testament to how careful Granada have been to maintain and preserve their archive. The earliest footage, dating from the early 1970s, included pristine newsfilm (including the surreal sight of him failing to control a hang-glider!) and studio sections from Granada Reports, and even from these initial appearances it was obvious how different Tony Wilson is from the average television presenter – opinionated, irreverent, and generally larger than life. These selections were followed by clips from all manner of other programmes, including his controversial tenure as presenter of World in Action, UpFront, Flying Start, programmes offering advice to school leavers, and even his Channel 4 game showRemote Control. Although the on-screen reference to the latter was sadly all too brief, it was still significant. As Remote Control is obscure and now largely forgotten, and indeed was made for a different channel, it could conceivably be used as a yardstick to measure the depth that this documentary was prepared to go to in attempting to give proper coverage to the subject.

Mixed in with this was suitably untypical and unexpected footage of the Factory bands, ranging from a fuzzy VHS recording of an early performance by Joy Division to a distinctly pre-fame Happy Mondays running through Do It Better in a tiny venue. All of which suggested that whoever was responsible for selecting the clips had an understanding of and genuine interest in (or at least had attempted to cultivate them while working on the programme) the music and ethos of Factory Records, instead of just lazily reaching for an off-air copy of Happy Mondays doing a lousy version of Step On from that live show that was televised by Granada in 1990.

As might be expected, the clips of Wilson and his musical associates in action were punctuated by interview footage of “talking head” contributors. Although the term now commonly provokes dread in the more discerning breed of television viewer, That Tony Wilsonwas in truth evidence of how the technique can actually be employed to thoroughly entertaining and informative effect if the programme makers apply a bit of hard work and selectivity to the process, instead of just opting for getting whichever Heat magazine favoured celebrity was hanging around the building to show their face.

Everyone featured in this programme was directly related to Wilson and his career, and more importantly they all had something of worth to say. Despite the “trendy” nature of the subject matter, which if anything has intensified in relation to the release of 24 Hour Party People, the production team did not resort to picking obvious contributors, and there was not a self-important celebrity in sight. The most famous contributors from the music world were Peter Hook and Stephen Morris from New Order, both of whom gave valuable insights into the story behind The Hacienda and Wilson’s personality in general. Happy Mondays bassist Paul Ryder, hardly the most instantly recognisable member of the band, appeared to provide some interesting background detail about the Factory Records “scene”, as did Vini Reilly and Bruce Mitchell of Durutti Column, whom it has to be said are barely recognisable even to some of their fans! Even the interviewees who spoke about Wilson’s television career were sensible rather than obvious choices, including former on-air colleagues Lucy Meacock and Bob Greaves, and although Richard Madeley and Judy Finnegan made substantial appearances, they were not afforded any form of star status by the programme and clearly felt relaxed enough to offer some proper insights into their experiences of working with Wilson.

Overall, the interviews served to enhance the programme rather than detract from it, and after so many years of being force fed the likes of Kate Thornton and Ricky Gervais offering non-opinions on interesting topics, it’s somewhat refreshing to be reminded that this is still actually possible.

Despite what the tabloid leanings of its title might suggest, That Tony Wilson was a superb celebration of a provocative and adventurous broadcaster by those who gave him the freedom (and indeed the restrictions to react against) to produce his greatest work. This was echoed by his closing comments in the programme, in which he explained that he has stayed with Granada instead of pursuing more lucrative offers from elsewhere because they gave him the “chance to do what I wouldn’t have been able to do elsewhere.” The fact that a programme of such quality and high entertainment value should be limited to a regional opt-out slot while hopeless clip shows detailing nothing in particular have a regular national platform is ridiculous, but it only serves to further underline his sentiment. There are some combinations that work when you wouldn’t expect them to, and Wilson and Granada are one of them. After so many years of producing fascinating television together, it’s only fitting that a look back at his career should be equally well made.