Alison Graham

Host Sarah Millican, the mistress of girly self-deprecation, can't stand celebrity fitness DVDs. No, her ideal would be "Fat Lass Has a Go", followed up by "Fat Lass Tries Again".

Millican has fallen into that comfortable female-comedian nest where she pokes fun at her own perceived shortcomings before anyone else can, making the audience complicit in her cheery humiliation. But you let her get away with it. Possibly that's something to do with that deceptively soothing Geordie lilt, a terrific giggle and her charm.

She's funny, too; there are routines about a louche friend with an adventurous life ("To me, exciting is when you start a new tea towel"), her becoming an unlikely lust object on Twitter, and a boyfriend who can't buy decent presents. Elsewhere, Steve Hughes does little more than get the audience cheering along to the naffness of The X Factor, while Russell Kane lets us in on the poisonous reality of being a single man again.

Aw, I want to pull Rev into a warm embrace; it's such a kind, sweet, life-affirming programme and this final episode in the series (a Christmas special is on its way) is just fuzzy with goodness.

You'll even end up feeling sympathy for the something-of-the-night-about-him Archdeacon (Simon McBurney) when he admits to a big secret about his personal life. Hint: Adam and Nigel spot him choosing a bed with a handsome friend called Richard (guest star James Purefoy). Which could put an end to the Archdeacon's dreams of becoming Bishop of Stevenage.

There is a rare moment of accord between the Archdeacon and Adam (Tom Hollander), who has much to contemplate. His unhappy wife Alex (luminous Olivia Colman) has gone on a walking holiday to think about their future. Such is our emotional connection with these people, you'll be willing their marriage not to fail.

In a rare, filth-free, you-can-watch-it-with-your-granny episode (and so much better for it), laconic US comic Rich Hall immediately gets the Apollo audience on his side as he points out that British people are so much funnier than his countryfolk. Then a very game audience member called Peter comes on stage as Hall's "human shield" to sing a creditable version of John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads".

Good-natured and funny Mark Watson regales us with the perils of shopping for a single carrot, and Andrew Maxwell ends the show with a clever routine about a "cockney mosque" with a "geezer minaret".

With the possible exception of Tom Hollander and his Rev cohorts, there isn't a better comic performer on TV right now than Rafe Spall. He makes magic with fairly ordinary scripts, adding his own tics, double- takes and whimpers (I LOVE Pete's whimpers) and his very own brand of appealing hopelessness.

So it's a pity this is the last in the current series, though it goes out on a great final two minutes as Pete implodes when witnessing a marriage proposal. This is after he goes out with a half-witted UFO believer called Tilly. And after he goads then picks a fight with a street performer who pretends to be a robot. I'm going to miss you, Pete. You prize berk.

The Archdeacon (Simon McBurney) is hovering like a big grey owl because there's a glaring hole in church accounts and he's ready to exact retribution - on hapless vicar Adam Smallbone, of course.

But it looks like there could be a ready-made solution to St Saviour's problems - the arrival of a wealthy City financier (played by Richard E Grant). He's at church to attend a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. But Adam's thoughts are elsewhere after yet another encounter with the hopeless, forever-cadging Mick. He's the homeless fella who routinely turns up on the vicarage doorstep to scrounge £20. But this week he has a much bigger request, forcing Adam to take a huge risk.

Genial inner-city vicar Adam is nervous about the forthcoming religious inspection at the C of E school run by the comely Ellie. He's particularly disturbed by Matthew, a cool new teacher whose credentials are in doubt after he gave a school assembly on Richard Dawkins's The Selfish Gene.

So jealous Adam gets all pompous and defensive when he agrees to put together a team to take part in the archdeacon's beloved interdenominational football tournament. But Adam has problems raising enthusiasm. His fey curate Nigel (Miles Jupp) is appalled and wonders aloud: "Can we do bowls instead?"

As ever, gentle Adam (Tom Hollander) is at his funniest when his less-than-godly side starts to show, this time when he behaves disgracefully during the match. But we are all brought up short by a tragedy, and a final, genuinely moving few minutes when Adam is called upon to bring solace.

Now this could be interesting: Robin Williams is a guest tonight and he is a notoriously loose cannon. Undoubtedly he's a clever and witty comedian, but he finds it hard to turn himself off. So will Williams be "on" when he takes his place on the Norton sofa? He shares the limelight here with busy young Elijah Wood (recently on BBC3 in the very odd US comedy Wilfred) and with our own Jennifer Saunders, who returns to TV screens at Christmas with an Absolutely Fabulous special.

Craven Pete, professional disaster and romantic failure, runs over a woman's cat, which gives him the perfect opportunity to try to get off with the grieving pet-owner.

This, like every single one of Pete's potential assignations, could bomb horribly when it comes to laughs, but Rafe Spall is so endearing as pin-brained Pete (he's a halfwit, but he's not malicious) that it just works.

It's a delight, too, to know that everything will always go badly wrong, despite Pete's best efforts and Olympian lies.

Inner-city vicar Adam Smallbone (Tom Hollander) is perturbed when his vulpine archdeacon appoints a young female curate. And Abi (Amanda Hale) is so clever and enthusiastic that both he and Nigel (Miles Jupp) dislike her on sight. When she piously declares she wants to say a prayer before the meditation class, Nigel adds, helpfully: "It's just fat mums doing yoga."

Adam knows such thoughts are ignoble, but he can't help himself. Soon Abi is a big hit and Adam's world falls apart. It's another sweet episode of this soft-centred comedy held aloft by the wonderful Hollander. The scene where he joins in a children's service while tripping on ecstasy is a sight to behold.

I sat before Life's Too Short, arms crossed and daring it to be funny because I really wanted to be offended AND unamused. A comedy series about dwarves? Who the hell would write such a thing? (Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant.)

But Life's Too Short isn't a comedy about dwarves, though it does have a dwarf star - the urbane, winning Warwick Davis, a dwarf actor (Return of the Jedi, Harry Potter) down on his luck. His wife's thrown him out, he's almost bankrupt and the work has dried up. Even clients at his dwarves-only casting agency are bad-tempered and resentful.

Though it stars Gervais doing his Gervaisy thing (the sly looks to camera, the faux puzzlement) he is eclipsed by Davis playing a version of himself. But everyone is overshadowed by Liam Neeson, who is majestically unfunny as a humourless Liam Neeson ("I'm always making lists. That's probably why Steven Spielberg
cast me as Oskar Schindler") who earnestly wishes to become a stand-up comedian.