Alison Graham

Harry Hill is the master of the camcorder clip show. No one comes close to his surreal majesty. Even dressing up snippets of animals doing daft things as a pretend news bulletin, with ex-Goodie Tim Brooke-Taylor and a man disguised as a dog as anchormen will never make Animal Antics into the BBC's version of You've Been Framed. That said, if you love an uncomplicated laugh (and if you don't, what's wrong with you?), there will be something here for you, whether it's a baby grizzly bear stuck up a tree, a pug trapped in a toilet, or a squirrel eating a bacon sandwich. And if you like cats doing silly things, prepare to laugh yourself to unconsciousness.

Host Greg Davies roams the Apollo like an angry giraffe, railing against the perils of being middle-aged, which include having an underpants emergency just before he was due to go on stage. There's a long, discursive rant about a hideous taxi journey with a cab driver, which involved an existential discussion about the nature of "pies", before things get quieter with charming guest Hal Cruttenden. He has a good riff about the similarities between Germany and Dr David Banner in The Incredible Hulk. The evening ends with Simon Evans, who makes jokes about hen parties and fat people.

Comedian Frankie Howerd's Somerset home, Wavering Down, remained largely untouched after his death in 1992. Frankie Howerd: the Lost Tapes uncovers a huge archive of his letters, files and recordings for this fond recollection of a curious career.

Howerd, with his terrible wig, his nudge-nudge act and catchphrases based on the infinite comic possibilities of the word "tittering!, was a well-loved figure, though his career suffered deep troughs and he could be tough to work with.

But he was a doughty fighter who wouldn't give up, his huge success as leering Lurcio in the BBC sitcom Up Pompeii came after a long period in the doldrums. This is a fascinating portrait of a curious man, peppered with clips from real oddities, including an atrocious film with, of all people, the Bee Gees.

It's one of the big nights of the year and Graham Norton has a sensational line-up to celebrate. In fact, it has the potential to be such a wild and funny show maybe you should cancel your plans to go out to that warm-wine-and-nibbles party you weren't particularly looking forward to and just stay in instead.

So how about this lot to make your New Year's Eve go with a proper swing: Tom Cruise, Hugh Jackman, Billy Crystal, John Bishop and The Great British Bake Off's Paul Hollywood and Mary Berry, with music from Pink. Incredible, isn't it? What will the sainted Mary make of it all? Will Cruise, in town to promote his new film Jack Reacher, be acquainted with soggy bottoms? Can Jackman, starring in the movie version of Les Misérables, make rough-puff pastry? We need to know.

If you are of a certain age and are feeling bored in the no-man's-land between Christmas and New Year, watch this 1994 museum piece, scrutinise the audience and play Spot the Face. You can even tune out the remorseless Ken Dodd, who never seems to draw breath as he makes gags about Scunthorpe, Nigel Mansell and Scotsmen in kilts (this is a different time, a generation in comedy terms) as you scour the celebrity faces. Look, it's Diddy David Hamilton! Alf Roberts from Coronation Street! And Kevin Whately looking about 19!

At times this faux fly-on the wall documentary seemed like an actual fly-on-the-wall documentary as the hapless personnel on the Olympic Deliverance Committee lurched from one crisis to the next in ways that mirrored their real-life counterparts. Hugh Bonneville has never been better than as the charming, well-meaning boss Ian Fletcher and Jessica Hynes was brilliantly awful as dead-eyed, pin-headed PR officer Siobhan with her memorably daft ideas - like combining the Olympics with the Diamond Jubilee. Jubilympics, anyone?

The young doctor's morphine addiction has a deadly grip: hollow-eyed, working at that terrible clinic in the middle of nowhere, he is abject. Meanwhile, his older self (Jon Hamm) too is unhappy: when the pair "meet", they fight. Though there is a scene that will delight Hamm and Daniel Radcliffe fans when they share a bath.

It's the final episode, so there's a sense of an ending for both. The young doctor is called out in a blizzard to a woman with a serious head injury. His "treatment" is shocking, but he's detached - it's the morphine. When he tries to resist, his world spins.

Pull a cracker for a festive QI with Phill Jupitus, Alan Davies, Danny Baker and RT's Sarah Millican. They are a ribald bunch, leading ringmaster Stephen Fry, resplendent in a luxuriant Santa outfit, to wail: "We have started our family Christmas show just as I'd hoped we would."

Everyone is on fine form and there are some good gags, including one from Fry about Freudians and a light bulb. And we learn why it is always Christmas in Millican's spare bedroom.

The older doctor (Jon Hamm) is in the sweaty grip of his morphine addiction as these slight tales at last take on some substance. Back in that frosty clinic decades earlier we see the start of his reliance on the drug, as the young doctor (Daniel Radcliffe) is driven to distraction by a toxic mixture of claustrophobia, boredom and fear. Only an armful of morphine can set him free.

A young girl is brought in, dying from diphtheria; her mother is hysterical while her aged babushka is in such a frenzy that only a shot of formaldehyde will shut her up.

Having learnt that her daughter Caroline is a lesbian, Celia is shocked and judgemental. "What will folk think?" she demands of her fiancé, Alan. They'll be "pointing and saying things".

As Sally Wainwright's clever, multilayered drama ends, what started out as the most dreamy of courtships appears to have hit some very choppy waters when Alan (Derek Jacobi) decides he doesn't like this new side to Celia (Anne Reid). Caroline (Sarah Lancashire) isn't enamoured of it, either: "You're going to die lonely and bitter," she yells at her mother when the pair trade cruelties in a terrible row.

I'm going to miss Last Tango in Halifax, as will presumably its huge BBC1 audience. It was one of those dramas that arrived out of nowhere to an instant embrace from viewers, and none of us will quite be able to let Alan, Celia, Caroline and Gillian get away from us.

By the way, you will cry at the end. Oh yes, you will.