Alison Graham

You really have to admire BBC2 for being so single-minded and indeed innovative in its quest for comedies without laughs. After Roger and Val Have Just Got In and The Trip comes Episodes, a cautionary tale of English scriptwriters who uproot and move to Hollywood. Tamsin Greig and Stephen Mangan are excellent as creators of the award-winning comedy series Lyman's Boys, who fall for the blandishments of a US TV executive and agree to re-create their successful show in the States. But on their arrival in LA things go wrong as they are subjected to fake smiles and doublespeak as the network corrupts their beloved creation. Episodes has everything going for it, including scripts co-written by Friends' David Crane, yet it never catches light. Situations are laboured and - where's the wit?

Throughout his career Bob Monkhouse was routinely dismissed as a slick, shallow, egregious TV game-show host. But he was also an educated, highly intelligent man with an almost frighteningly technical approach to comedy, who throughout his life kept notebooks in which he deconstructed other people's gags to find out what made them work. After he died in 2003, the existence of his enormous video archive of 50,000 VHS tapes and 400 film prints became public knowledge. Monkhouse was an obsessive taper of TV and radio shows for decades; he had video recorders at home years and years before they were commonplace. His treasure trove, examined in detail in this fascinating biography, is a TV and film historian's dream. The Secret Life of Bob Monkhouse also paints a vivid picture of a complicated man who, whether you liked him or not, was a consummate performer dogged by the fear of failure.

You can warm your hands on the waves of affection that waft from writer Peter Bowker's funny, sweet-natured look at the early years of our most beloved comic partnership, Eric Morecambe and Ernie Wise.

We follow the duo just before they hit the really big time, from their first meeting when they were both child stars on the same bill, through the days touring grotty clubs and music halls, right up to their first, disastrous television appearance: "Northern comedy just doesn't play on television," says a snitty BBC exec, before forcing the lads into a series of lame, generic TV sketches.

The evolution of the surreally brilliant act that was to make them adored is nicely done, thanks to Bowker's light touch and to a smashing cast, particularly comedian Daniel Rigby as the genial, uncomplaining but sharp-witted Morecambe, who manages both to look and sound like Eric without resorting to caricature. Bryan Dick is grafter Ernie, whose forbearance is frequently tested by his partner.

It looks like this could be the end for flat-sharers Mark and Jeremy when Jez announces on New Year's Eve that he's moving out. Mark (David Mitchell) is surprisingly philosophical, as his mate's absence means he can at last finish his great work, "The Business Secrets of the Pharaohs". It's the last episode in the series, and it's packed with tiny treasures, including Jez's (Robert Webb) demand that Mark should party: "Shake your booty, tonight even Paxman's out!"

Outnumbered's bloodthirsty Ben is a William for our times, so the casting of actor Daniel Roche, so brilliant as the violence-obsessed middle child in the hit BBC1 sitcom, is perfect. The sublime Martin Jarvis, who is William to so many of us, thanks to his peerless readings of Richmal Crompton's tales on Radio 4, narrates a series of four stories (daily until New Year's Eve). Here William and the Outlaws first encounter insufferable Violet Elizabeth Bott, the be-ribboned, lisping brat who manipulates everyone with her threats to "thcweam and thcweam and thcweam until I'm thick". Warren Clarke and, particularly, Caroline Quentin have a whale of a time as Violet Elizabeth's vulgar, nouveau riche parents (dad is the Bott's Digestive Sauce magnate), while Rebecca Front and Daniel Ryan are sweetly forbearing as William's mum and dad. It's aimed at kids, but adults will have fun, too, if only as they look back fondly on a world where children could play outside for hours on end and the sun always seemed to shine.

Shake off your Christmas torpor with a short, sharp hit of some of Harry Hill's best Burping bits - it's as bracing as a frosty Boxing Day walk. There's nothing brand new here, as it's a rag-bag assortment of highlights from previous festive Burps, but fans of the hit series will know what to expect. And even though it's all old stuff, we'll take what we can get. We need Harry on every week, bringing his own surreal kind of "sanity" to the crazy world of television.

If you've already overdosed on seasonal goodwill and need to sharpen your jaded nerves on a bit of black comedy, then welcome to Peep Show and an excruciating Christmas with socially inept flatmates Mark and Jeremy. The day doesn't start well when Mark (David Mitchell) gives an overexcited Jez (Robert Webb) awful gifts: a pair of cooking tongs and his Scotrail sleep mask from an overnight rail journey. The febrile atmosphere in the household isn't helped by Mark's nervousness as he prepares to host his first family Christmas with his ghastly parents and sister: "I'm in charge! I've launched the Christmas putsch. I carve the turkey!" It's painfully, bleakly comic and forms the centrepiece of Peep Show Night, which features a documentary about what has turned out to be Channel 4's longest-running comedy, with two classic episodes chosen by Mitchell and Webb.

Imbecilic men-boys Mark and Jeremy are locked inside Jez's (occasional) girlfriend's flat, trapped in the hallway on the very morning that Mark's son is christened. He's obviously anxious to get to the ceremony because he doesn't have much going for him as a father: "All I have in the dad-bank is my record of punctuality." But humiliation is heaped upon humiliation, in true, excruciatingly funny Peep Show style as the pair (David Mitchell and Robert Webb) tussle over the delivery of a pizza. Jeremy is infuriatingly laid-back about their predicament, until the arrival of his beloved Zahra's egregious boyfriend forces both Mark and Jeremy into unwanted intimacy in a shower.

Mark and dim Dobby are now an item, though Mark (David Mitchell) is sexually insecure. He's lost his "dirty mojo", according to best mate Jez, whom he unwisely consults for sex tips. Mark also finds a new friend called Kenneth, but the less you know about that, the better. Jez (Robert Webb) has romantic difficulties of his own as he fakes interest in foreign films, the theatre, contemporary dance, magic realism and historical novels to worm his way into his beloved Zahra's heart. He's such an idiot it's almost adorable to hear him trying to get to grips with reading all 372 pages of Wuthering Heights: "I've been on the same four pages for three hours." But possibly even more delicious are Super Hans's (the brilliant Matt King) maniacal displacement activities after he gives up crack. "Cycling, running, cooking, knitting, quilting..." And there's an emergency when he accidentally runs all the way to Windsor.

Mark and Gerard are united in their love for the sweetly dim Dobby who, tragically, has a new boyfriend. The pair's only outlet is her Facebook updates, but their frustrations are sublimated with the purchase of Stalin and Roosevelt action figures. Mark is delighted: "We can get together and model Yalta!" Although history doesn't record the appearance of a Cyberman (with noises, courtesy of Gerard) at this formidable 1945 summit of world leaders. Soon Mark and Gerard are locked in a tussle for Dobby's affections and it looks like Gerard might have the upper hand, to Mark's consternation: "He's made a mockery of our Granita moment! He's Blairing me!" It's lines like this that make life, and Peep Show, worthwhile. Meanwhile Jez (Robert Webb) pursues the lovely Zahra now that her boyfriend Ben has emerged from his coma. Ben, it turns out, is an insufferable dweeb who employs Jez on his internet music portal. Which means, for lovers of the scrofulous Super Hans - the most disreputable character ever to appear in a television comedy - a chance to hear his idiotic band, Man Feelings. Sample lyric: "I am in loco parentis/I am the last remaining contestant on The Apprentice". Bliss.