David Chater

The only problem with the success of this Reggie Perrin remake is that it may end up breathing new life into the old-fashioned sitcom, just when it was ready to disappear for ever after a long and miserable illness. The penultimate episode is funnier and sharper than ever. Reggie (Martin Clunes) lists some of the things that cause him distress, including death, earphones and "a sense that love is the answer coupled with a searing hatred of so many things and people". To ease his misery, he decides to take up cycling to work - an experience he likens to childbirth without a baby at the end. When he returns home, his wife (Fay Ripley) is unusually sympathetic. "At least your face broke the fall," she says.

For once there seems to be a consensus of opinion around the water cooler - this remake of Reggie Perrin is extremely funny. Tonight, Reggie (Martin Clunes) heads off to Finland with the beautiful Jasmine to spearhead Groomtech's thrust into the global marketplace, and for the first time his wife (Fay Ripley) senses that all is not well in their marriage. "He's changed," she says. "He's stopped taking disposable razors seriously." Reggie's take on globalisation has a universal appeal, but the funniest moment is the receptionist struggling to remember something important.

It couldn't matter less if a drama kicks off with an improbability at the outset, while viewers are still settling down and re-arranging the cushions. What matters is that everything follows on logically from there. David Allison's strangely fascinating comedy-drama begins with just such an improbability, as two people (Martin Freeman and Rachael Stirling) exchange bodies and lives after a freak accident involving an electricity pylon. The man is trapped inside a woman's body and is forced to wear high heels all day, write articles for a newspaper on fashion and gossip about other men over lunch. The woman has to slob around in a track suit, never tidying up, smoking roll-ups, eating junk food and behaving like a semi-housetrained Neanderthal. Both end up looking at the world afresh and not entirely liking what they see. It is nothing if not unusual - and for that alone it is worth watching.

Martin Clunes knew he was taking a risk when he took on Leonard Rossiter's famous role. He said in an interview: "I'm sure they'll say, I'm not as good as..." For all that, he brings a sympathetic gloom to the character, and there are plenty of good jokes swirling around his misery. Better yet, all the smaller parts have been cast to perfection. With good jokes, strong characters and a classic set-up, what's not to like? Only the lack of ambition. Tonight Reggie tries to find a programme on television that is "easy, warm and comforting". This would have suited him perfectly.

There must be plenty of people who question the sense in reviving a sitcom so closely associated with Leonard Rossiter. But if you come to it fresh and don't make comparisons, Reggie Perrin has plenty going for it. For one thing, the story of a man being driven slowly insane in a mind-numbingly tedious job ought to be timeless - or, at least, it seemed timeless until the financial crisis made us pathetically grateful to have any job at all. It also features a strong cast led by Martin Clunes, and much of it is a lot funnier than most run-of-the-mill sitcoms. But comedy has moved on.

With the face of a mischievous pasha, the grace of a belly dancer, the perspective of an outsider, and an astonishing speed and mastery of detail, the Iranian comedian Omid Djalili comes heavily tooled up with comic weaponry. His new show is a mixture of stand-up and sketches. He is man of many faces and accents. One moment, he plays a Community Support sheriff in a spaghetti western; the next, he is an East End bouncer training for the 2012 Olympics. Best of all is the pilot for a new West End show called Credit Crunch: The Musical.

Dave Gorman's guest tonight is a slimmed-down, healthy-looking Johnny Vegas, who is called upon to decide which ideas are pure genius and which are the product of unsound minds. One scheme is for so-called dating insurance: a couple puts money in a pot every week and, when they split up, the one who has been dumped gets the cash. Better still is the gentleman who has invented a box for the torture of inanimate objects. Why? "Because inanimate objects are so intensely annoying and there are very few ways you really get back at them." The most alarming moment is when Vegas gets into bed with Gorman to demonstrate a fully wrap-around duvet. Forces are unleashed that are very hard to control.

Stewart Lee turns his attention to the global financial crisis and the collapse of the property market. "The fox," he says, "has his den. The bee has his hive. The stoat has his . . . stoat hole. But only man chooses to make his nest in an investment opportunity." He goes on to explain the crucial difference between a house and an investment. "A home is a basic requirement of life. Like food. When squirrels hide acorns they are not trying to play the acorn market." Those who are now suffering the most from the property slump are the estate agents, but he warns against premature satisfaction. "The struggles to survive that estate agents are going through today," he says glumly, "are a useful barometer of some of the problems that we humans might face in the future."

Frank Skinner is Dave Gorman's guest, and among the ideas competing for the title of "genius" tonight is a face mask lined with razor blades to make shaving easier. That one was a nonstarter. There is a lady who suggests that all maths teachers should have to use dance as a teaching aid. The most popular idea is a proposal to attach prisoners to dynamos as an alternative source of energy. Skinner himself is in favour of it. "I like the idea of old age pensioners saying 'Cycling is too good for them'," he says.

Tonight is the series finale of this modern romantic comedy, in which two attractive people (Sharon Horgan and Stephen Mangan) are failing to have an affair. She drinks a lot of red wine and asks herself repeatedly: "When is anything ever going to start being good again?" For his part, he is trying not to walk out on people whenever the going gets tough. The Daily Express got overexcited about the bad language in the show, asking its readers: "Is this the foulest 'comedy' ever?", ignoring the fact that it was essentially a rather sweet love story between two befuddled people. It is true that the boss of the agency (Anthony Head) wallows in the mire like an ecstatic hippo, but I've been reliably informed that his character is based on a real person.