David Stubbs (II)

Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant only appear briefly, but their stamp is all over this sitcom, with Warwick Davis as the showbiz dwarf who is essentially Gervais by proxy, and his worse than useless female assistant in the Merchant role. The humour is progressive - where else would Davis get a leading role like this? - yet too constantly fixated on height for jokes. Tonight, Davis wangles work both as a consultant to Johnny Depp and a guest gig at a wedding, but the centrepiece of this episode is embittered, fragile Depp's showdown with Gervais in his office, vengeance for the roasting he got at the Golden Globes.

This series is gaining admirable steam, and tonight's episode begins with a virtuoso exchange of self-pity between Jerwayne and Ashley. The latter finds his milkshakes rebuffed by a pair of scornful young girls, his bald patch enlarging and the need to "identify new territories" - the older woman. She arrives in the form of the replacement training lady and the pair compete with Lance to charm her. Janine, meanwhile, is convinced she has a stalker, a fate she meets with alarming equanimity, as well as empathy. She knows what it's like - "I put the hours in. Just ask Gary Barlow's mum."

With a rhythm, a feel and a character all its own, this bleak gem of a sitcom is possibly BBC3's sole redeeming feature. Tonight, Steve and Becky throw a dinner party to mark their cohabitation, while their ghastly array of family and neighbours get to do their worst. A feeble anecdote about an 82p banana triggers off some alarming conversational tangents, not least Laura's intention to join the BNP. Mike, Steve's mum's new boyfriend who takes full advantage of the open door toilet policy, turns out to be relatively un-appalling.

Back for a second series, the mobile-flogging crew are feeling the effects of the economic downturn, with their mantra - to "shift units, make money, smash targets" - increasingly difficult to realise. In this opener, Ashley, Jerwayne and Christopher angle for ways to make money on the side, while Janine finds herself mixing with Croydon's own creme de la creme. Some consider PhoneShop to be a funny but grotesque exaggeration of south London mores, with its Office/Ali G shtick. Those who have lived in the Croydon/Sutton area, however, assure us that this is a scrupulously naturalistic depiction.

With its rather awkward device of a sports anchorman and ex-footballer providing a running commentary on the life of sports journo and man-child Pete Griffiths (Rafe Spall), eyebrows were raised by some when this was commissioned for a second series. However, while it could still do without the sidebars and graphics that pop up, this is actually funny, and much of that is due to Spall. Here, he has to eke out a supplementary living as a dog walker, with fatal consequences, while romance possibly beckons with his parents' new Polish home help, the "good Catholic girl" Gracja.

It's been with us some 15 years now, and, in the wake of Have I Got News For You, has reached that stage of its maturity where it has guest hosts. This week it's David Hasselhoff, whose career of affectionately parodying his Hasselhoff persona has outlasted his earlier, un-ironic one. Regular team captains Phill Jupitus and Noel Fielding are on hand, joined by Pineapple Dance Studios star Louie Spence, Amelle Berrabah of Sugababes and the ever-reliable Peter Serafinowicz.

There have been sceptical noises made about the latest series, suggesting that it's lapsing into self-parody and dull convention. However, it remains by a long distance the finest mainstream British sitcom of recent years. Tonight's isn't the strongest episode, mind, revolving around the parents' evening for Ben, who at 11 is emerging as a distinctly unusual boy. Meanwhile, we see Karen undergo a rare moment of hurt. Stick with this series; it ends magnificently.

Someday, TV will succeed in its long quest to find a settled role for Jo Brand and we'll all live happily ever after. Meanwhile, in this new series for Dave, Brand defies her reputation as the least physically inclined of comedians by plunging into water, in all its various British manifestations. In between bouts of standup, we'll see her criss-crossing the country in her custom-made swimsuit, leading the charge through sewerage systems and grey seas. Tonight, accompanied by Sean Lock, she assays the Maldon Mud Race. It's giving nothing away to reveal that she gets covered in mud.

Sarah Hooper's series about the perky goings on in a recession-untroubled Mancunian suburb is billed as comedy drama, as if to suggest you're getting two things for the price of one, but in truth it's short on both, unless you count hackneyed sexual intrigue as drama and affected, sub-Coronation Street dialogue as comedy. It's comfort telly, relying on a cast of familiar faces including Pauline Collins, Tommy Ball, Angela Griffin and Sally Lindsay as Lisa, whose over-indulgent lunches lead to speculation that she is pregnant.

Reeves and Mortimer's comedy has not dimmed with age and time - if anything, it has got more knobs and bells on than ever before, as this latest series of the surefire Shooting Stars attests. They have got the bonus of ironic-ish dancing girls this time round, as well as the familiar presences of Ulrika-ka-ka, Jack Dee and Angelos. Guests looking on in mute helplessness at the comedic fare include James "The Yorkshire Pudding" Martin and "Dennis - sorry, Brigitte" Nielsen, who, it is fair to guess, had probably not seen Shooting Stars before her participation in it.