Hirsute, high-trousered A&R hard man Cowell shot to fame on Pop Idol, dispensing home truths to deluded hopefuls. Fast-forward a decade and he’s the undisputed king of the genre. With his franchises rolled out across 40 countries, the stack-heeled svengali has amassed a £200m fortune and a vast collection of monochrome tops. He’s still the best judge around, too. No one does dismissive put-down – or surprise praise – as charismatically. Consider last year’s substandard Britain’s Got Talent and The X Factor, after the boss took a break. He’s back this year. And it’s a yes from us Photograph: Rex Features
Big-haired, shoulder-padded Myskow once wrote tabloid TV reviews under the subtle soubriquet 'The bitch on the box'. She transferred this catty persona to the screen when talent search New Faces was revived in 1986 and needed a nasty judge to rival Mickie Most (a sort of proto-Cowell) and Tony 'Hatchet Man' Hatch, who had spiced up the 1970s original. Panto villain Myskow was a natural – each barb getting booed. Particularly entertaining was her sparring with presenter Marti Caine, who stuck up for the hopefuls and gave Myskow some lip back, much to the audience’s delight Photograph: Rex Features
In 2000, when Jonathan King dropped out of Popstars in disgrace, Lythgoe, a dancer-turned-TV producer, took his place. Soon, his straight-talking approach ('You’re either stupid or deaf') saw him dubbed 'Nasty Nigel'. He memorably told a tearful Kym Marsh that she needed to lose weight thus: 'Christmas may be gone but I see the goose is still fat.' The toothy Tommy Steele lookalike went back behind the camera for Pop Idol but returned to judging duties for So You Think You Can Dance. An honorary graduate of the University of Bedfordshire, he calls himself 'the dancing doctor' Photograph: Katherine Rose/Observer
Professional clotheshorses tend to have a limited shelf life, so when Californian supermodel Banks turned 30, she created America’s Next Top Model – a format that’s since sashayed worldwide and has 50 international versions. She still serves as executive producer, host and head judge on the US original, and even sings the theme tune. Feisty and formidable, Banks takes modelling incredibly seriously. She also coined the term 'smizing' (smiling with your eyes) and last year published an inadvertently hilarious novel, Modelland, about a gawky wannabe named Tookie De La Crème Photograph: Jim De Yonker/PR
Sure, head judge Len Goodman has the catchphrases 'Seveeeeeen!' and 'from Len, a 10'. Cartoonish Italian Bruno Tonioli has his fans. Strictly Come Dancing’s standout judge, though, is the Aussie choreographer pursing his lips disapprovingly. Revel Horwood’s schtick is to reel off with relish every fault he can find, with particular disdain reserved for 'lazy thumbs', 'floppy feet' or 'spatulistic hands'. Routines are either deemed 'Fab-u-lous' or a 'Dis-ah-ster'. He doesn’t overmark like the others, either: hoofers know they’ve nailed it when they get a 10 from Craig Photograph: Andy Hall/Observer
For five years, this bitchy Aussie spiced up ITV’s Dancing On Ice with his flouncy neckwear, ostentatious millinery and caustic comments. He told Kay Burley her smile was 'demented', compared Tana Ramsay to a 'frigid schoolmistress', Kelly Holmes to 'a man in drag' and singled out Phil Gayle for his 'simple' face. He pushed it too far, however, when he said brown leotard-clad Sharron Davies was 'like watching faecal matter that won’t flush'. Viewers complained of bullying and this year, Gardiner was replaced by fellow West End luvvie Louie Spence, who provides choreographic critiques but in a rather more cuddly style Photograph: PR
Quaintly old-fashioned BBC2 bunfight The Great British Bake-Off proved a surprise hit last autumn, pulling in 5 million viewers. Its queen bee is food writer Mary Berry. This doyenne of dough has had her face pressed to the oven door for 50 years and has published 40-plus cookbooks. She and co-judge, the brilliantly named Paul Hollywood, get down on their haunches to peer at contestants’ confections, poke them to rate 'the quality of the bake', then diagnose faults with forensic honesty. Berry is unfailingly polite, deploying a withering look of disappointment, like a badly let-down home economics teacher Photograph: Rex Features
They may not be judges in the strictest sense, but Alan Sugar’s 'eyes and ears' fulfilled a similar role for the first five years of The Apprentice. They’d accompany the besuited blowhards on their tasks, dutifully noting mistakes and adding the odd dry observation, then flank Sugar in the boardroom like wise grey bookends. The pair became known for their expressions – her quizzically raised eyebrows, his lemon-sucking squint. The team was disbanded in 2009, when Mountford left to concentrate on her PhD in papyrology, but she still returns for the climactic interview round Photograph: Rex Features
The Lord of the West End stage came late to television. Not long before he turned 60, Lloyd Webber made the risky decision to cast an unknown lead in The Sound of Music and find her via a BBC reality show. How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria? became a ratings hit and led to record theatre ticket sales. It was followed by super-camp sequels Any Dream Will Do, I’d Do Anything and Over The Rainbow. Lloyd Webber presided over them all rather sweetly, yet he was unable to keep an unintentional look of disgust off his gnomic face. Coming soon is Superstar: the search for a new talent to play Jesus Christ. Tough gig Photograph: Rex Features
When production company Shine was relaunching amateur cookery contest MasterChef in 2005, it was a masterstroke to cast Peckham-born greengrocer Wallace, dub him 'ingredients expert' and pair him with Australian restaurateur John Torode as presenters-cum-judges. Together, 'Toady' and 'Gregg the Egg' have steered the show’s unlikely transformation from daytime TV relic to money-spinning super-franchise. It’s now on screen nearly half the year (in its various incarnations), so we see plenty of Wallace shovelling in puds while shouting 'biiiiig flavours' and, of course, 'cooking doesn’t get tougher than this' Photograph: Katherine Rose/Observer
