Catherine Tate

The new series of Very British Problems began this week but seems to have lost its purpose. The show began life as a very witty, observant Twitter account which would blurt out panicked and appalled little tweets about the difficulties of being a repressed British person who's trying frantically to avoid embarrassment in a world full of boors and idiots.

The humour lay in not knowing who was sending the tweets and so we could imagine it was an uptight Englishman in a suit and bowler hat, catching the 8.09 to Waterloo, perhaps resembling a stern-faced John Cleese. Or maybe it's a kindly old lady who makes jam for the Women's Institute and crochets bootees for the church jumble sale, and is quietly horrified at the manners of today's young people. We could imagine what we liked, or slot ourselves into the situations described. But transferring the concept from Twitter to TV has ruined that. Our imaginary and oh-so-typical Brit has been replaced by celebrities. James Corden, Catherine Tate and David Tennant now share their awkward moments and social embarrassments, and there is no longer room for us. We've become observers not awkward, agonised participants.

We all love Christmas but wouldn't like it every day - contrary to what the song says. The luxury of all that food, wine and excitement would soon wear off and leave us longing for an uneventful day at work or a quiet potter around the supermarket. We can only take so much wonder and joy - and that must be the reason why Charlie Brooker is relatively rare on TV.

If I was in charge, he'd be on TV constantly. BBC News 24 would be Brooker 24 and watching would be mandatory. But, as with too much turkey and Prosecco, maybe we'd soon start to groan and wilt: no more, please. I'm full! I can't take another joke. I'm woozy with these witty observations. Another gag will make me gag.

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A consciously old-fashioned comedy one-off, with Catherine Tate and Miles Jupp as a couple whose stay in a honeymoon suite might save their marriage, if only ludicrous circumstance doesn't nobble them. There's quality throughout the cast, with Steve Edge and Car Share's Sian Gibson as the hotel staff, but farce is hard to write and this script falls well short. The pace doesn't gather, nothing anyone does is plausible, and the dialogue is littered with dead lines. Cringeworthy, in the wrong way.

Catherine Tate stars in this one-off comedy about an estranged married couple trying to rekindle their love after the trauma of an affair.

Anna (Catherine Tate) checks into a lovely old hotel in Stratford upon Avon for what she hopes will be a peaceful weekend but it seems the old town has been invaded by stag parties. There are medical students in Shakespearean garb vomiting into plant pots and clutching their hungover heads and groaning at the mini-bar bill which is full of drinks and Chunky Kit Kats. The town has clearly slipped into decay. In the old days the worst thing you'd see would be "method actors rehearsing for Coriolanus." Now it looks like Sauchiehall Street on a Saturday night.

And the hotel room doesn't offer much hope of romance. You could sleep in the same bed once occupied by Shakespeare, Anna is told, even though it was recently ordered from DFS.

Miles Jupp plays her estranged husband and they try to claw back some passion even though Anna suspects her husband might prefer Newsnight to sex.

Catherine Tate's risque act upsets her daughter

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