Al Murray

In Al Murray's Multiple Personality Disorder, the comic makes a break from the character of the pub landlord in a sketch-show format from the Viz school of comedy. I liked The PC PCs, forced to take control of a hostage situation because the firearms officers were off on a diversity course learning Latin. "Right!" bellowed Sarge at the hostage-taker. "We know you're in there, and more importantly, we know you 'ad an un'appy childhood." I also enjoyed the trailer for ITV1's compelling new autumn drama, "Gandhi", starring Ray Winstone ("If that Mountbatten comes in 'ere talking compromise, I'll tear 'im a new arsehole"). Not sure the sketch will repair ITV1's fortunes, but there'd surely be viewers for "Gandhi".

Al Murray's Multiple Personality Disorder is another sketch show to add to the pile; this one less interested in being knowingly hip or an intentional cult, and more a throwback to the mainstream Harry Enfield days of the early-'90s.

Al Murray thankfully rests his increasingly tiresome Pub Landlord persona, and instead gives us a confection of colourful characters. Hit-and-miss is always the phrase applies to sketch comedy, and so it comes to be used here. Murray is an amusing fellow, and there's good support from comedians Simon Brodkin and Jenny Eclair - but only a few sketches stuck in my mind: a married couple who converse in radio advert lingo, dastardly gentleman thief Barrington Blowtorch, and some politically-correct policemen. Worryingly, half the sketches were very thin, obvious or dumb (like a Geordie pretending to be gay to perv on his sexy friend, or a baby in a high-powered business meeting), while a character called Herr Schull (a gay Nazi in pink uniform) was a rather uncomfortable and vaguely homophobic caricature I thought we left behind in the '70s with Benny Hill.

We love the pub landlord, and this was Al's big chance to spread his wings. There's enough here to suggest that, if refined, it could be a very funny show, but about half sketches missed the mark; and some of those that did find the target were often heavily derivative (mostly a less macabre version of The League of Gentlemen).

So closely has Al Murray become associated with his multi-award-winning Pub Landlord character that there may be some viewers who imagine they're one and the same person. Fortunately, this excellent new seven-part sketch series, for which Murray takes on a whole array of new guises, should soon clear up any confusion. Either that or add to it...

If the runaway success of The Pub Landlord gave you the impression that Al Murray was a one-trick pony, in his new sketch show he proves he can get laughs playing people with hair, too.

Often these series shove all their best sketches into the first episode then taper off in the following weeks. The opening sketch of Murray's series about a sex-mad West Country dad, however, is probably the weakest of the lot.

Fortunately, after starting out on a bum note, things can - and do - only get better. Highlights include Murray and Jenny Eclair cast as a married couple who do voice-overs and comedian Simon Brodkin, who appears in many of the sketches, brings his own creation along to the party, footballer Jason Bents.

Elsewhere, the spirit of Benny Hill lives on in Murray's gay Nazi, while at the other end of the scale we have the PC PCs - an obvious gag that's been waiting in the wings for yonks. "We know you're in there but more importantly we know that you had a very unhappy childhood..."

Al Murray shows off some brand-new comic characters in the first of a new series. What's that? Did someone ask who's looking after Al's boozer while he messes about on his new sketch show? Just in case there's anyone left with even a shred of uncertainty, Al Murray's new creations, such as exceptionally camp Nazi Horst Schwull and glam piano player Gary Parsley, should persuade doubters he isn't really a pub landlord and doesn't wear that maroon blazer all the time. He is still, however, a terrifically funny chap.

Al Murray dispenses with his stupendous Pub Landlord incarnation in favour of an ensemble sketch piece that, like his TV career to date, is a bit hit and miss. It's memorable mostly for being loud, colourful and a bit filthy... but then Murray is never a mand to tend towards subtlety. Jenny Eclair and Kevin Bishop gamely join him in the fun.

Everyone knows that bands hate playing their hits over and over again. And yet obviously there's no words more dispiriting for the gig goer than "This one's a new one". So while it must be a relief for Al Murray to ditch the Pub Landlord (though he was less keen two years ago when tvBite tried to interview him out of character), viewers are bound to be a sceptical. Fans of the subtle will certainly want to look elsewhere as AMPD doesn't so much tell jokes as nail them to a piece of wood and aim a big wide swing at the viewer. Characters like West Country sex-loving dad embarrassing his daughter, an Elton John alike demanding to eat unicorn and an annoying stag party add up to a show that's like Harry And Paul. But without the touch of class.

After 15 years of touring the country as the majestically belligerent Pub Landlord, Al Murray serves up some new characters in this boisterous sketch show. Parts of it may be too crude for some tastes (in particular the man cheerfully obsessed with his daughter's sex life), but there are some winning ideas, such as "The PC PCs", a group of police officers who divide their time between clambering up mountains of paperwork and being tweely polite to criminals. Look out as well for the atypically honest footballer ("I love this club. There's no way I'd ever leave. But if I don't get exactly what I want, I'm ----ing off").

Al Murray steps away from the Pub Landlord for this new sketch show. Like most entries into the genre, it's a bit hit and miss, but there should be something here for most palates, from Prurient Dad to the politically correct coppers.