David Mitchell (I)

The game show in which panellists aim to conceal truthful statements within falsehood-strewn speeches returns for its fourth series, with David Mitchell as its sardonic host. This raucous first episode was recorded at this year's Edinburgh Fringe Festival. The panellists - Rhod Gilbert, Adam Hills, Shappi Khorsandi and Reginald D Hunter - touch upon ingeniously weird topics such as whether Rudyard Kipling invented the game of snow golf (by painting his balls red so that they may be seen against the icy whiteness), and whether Edward VII had a golf bag made from an elephant's scrotum.

Episode three of this sixth series of the black comedy starring David Mitchell and Robert Webb shows why this is still the funniest British sitcom on TV at the moment. Self-serving Jeremy (Webb) realises that he's in love with Elena (Vera Filatova) and decides to be less selfish to win her affection.

A new series of the panel game in which comedians read a speech on a given topic that is laden with inaccuracies, and have to smuggle three true facts past their fellow players. It always raises a smile, even if it's nowhere near as reliably funny as chairman David Mitchell's other truth-based panel game, BBC1's Would I Lie to You?

Very slightly disappointing guests this week, although Lee Mack's team does manage to accommodate the widely differing talents of beaming West End musical star Michael Ball and sulphurous TV grump Charlie Brooker. Both are good value (Ball even makes a sly joke about drugs), but on David Mitchell's team Trinny Woodall and Reece Shearsmith seem, well, out of sorts. No matter. This show has no problem overcoming the handicap of less-than-sparkling guests to deliver a half-hour of laughs. Tonight the flights of fancy (or are they brute facts?) include Shearsmith's alleged spell working in a themed funeral parlour and Brooker's claim that he pretended to a girlfriend for six years that he was partially deaf. But crucially, do three members of the cabinet subscribe to David Mitchell's Twitter feed? And, if so, who are they? You'll have to watch to find out.

Hurrah for the return of the Bafta award-winning comedy about two socially inept flatmates. After last week's typically witty first episode in which Mark (David Mitchell) and Jeremy (Robert Webb) tried to avoid facing up to the fact that one of them is to become a father, Sophie (Olivia Coleman) finally reveals whose baby she's carrying. But both boys are more interested in pursuing their respective love interests: Mark makes a final play for IT worker Dobby (Isy Suttie) and Jeremy takes a shine to an arty Russian émigré.

Socially inept Mark (David Mitchell) once used the Siege of Stalingrad as a template for seduction, so it's hardly surprising he's so hopeless with the ladies. He hasn't learnt his lesson; tonight, when the object of his adoration - shy former workmate Dobby - turns up for a date, he resorts to a plan of attack as he goes in for a kiss: "Time for me to roll in my militarised divisions! We're Roosevelt and Stalin!" It's excruciating and hilarious, as are his housemate Jeremy's (Robert Webb) equally clumsy attempts to romance an attractive Russian woman who lives in the same block of flats. But Mark and Jeremy are at their comical best when they are at their most craven and pathetic. So sit back and get ready to hold your jaw as it drops into your lap when the unfortunate Sophie finally reveals which one of them is the father of her baby.

Tonight's is another ludicrously enjoyable edition of the fib-based panel show that will, if you're not very careful, have you giggling like a schoolgirl throughout. Mind you, there's an uncharacteristic lapse early on when guest panellist Sir Chris Hoy makes a claim that even by the standards of this series is clatteringly implausible. Do we for a moment buy the idea that Sir Chris was approached by Nasa to cycle on the Moon? I mean, come on. After that, truth and lies become harder to separate as we mull over whether Gabby Logan wears red underwear when she presents a show for the first time and whether Lee Mack was force-fed custard creams at school. Host Rob Brydon is on sparkling form and David Mitchell is, you won't be surprised to hear, effortlessly funny. But was the only time he ever went to a live music concert a trip to see Shirley Bassey?

Of course, for many of us, this week was not just some normal, ho-hum weeky week: as unremarkable as April 7-14, say, or, I dunno, February 19-26 inclusive. No. This week was Peep Show week. The return of the sitcom locked in a permanent, and fabulous, battle of champions with The Thick of It to be the definitive show of what we must, still, sighingly, refer to as "the Noughties". Peep and Thick are like the John McEnroe and Björn Borg of comedy - sometimes one triumphs, sometimes the other, but for miles and miles around there's no real competition. No competition at all. That one writer - Jesse Armstrong - works on both lends the very real possibility that he might be the funniest person in Britain.

I'm not in the habit of suggesting that the Government should forcibly take sperm samples from scriptwriters, and keep them in a cryogenic vault, in the event of a "comedy emergency" in which everyone funny dies, and we need to restock Britain's gag-writing ability with a concerted breeding programme. But, you know, it might be worth bearing in mind.

As series six starts, Peep Show's profile - once so "cult" that its future looked perilous - has never been higher. The inexorable rise of David Mitchell - thinking lady's beaky sex-penguin du jour - means that even the show's first trailer was subject to mass excitement on Twitter. When we last saw Jez (Robert Webb) and Mark (David Mitchell), they had just found out that either one of them might be the father of Sophie's (Olivia Colman) forthcoming baby. This is an usually "big" plot for the show - after all, even when Super Hans (Matt King) got addicted to crack ("That stuff is more-ish!"), it didn't really take up more than six or seven gags.

Within minutes of the first episode opening, more "big" stuff has happened - Mark has got the terminally feckless Jez a job at his company, JLB - but then JLB goes bust. The sexy business dick Alan Johnson (Paterson Joseph, playing one of the all-time amazing sitcom characters) comes to deliver the bad news: "I just got in from Aberdeen. JLB no longer exists. Thank you, Britain, and good night!" and then is driven away at top speed in a company car.

"That's the last Beemer out of Saigon," Mark sighs. The problem was that, as the episode went on, I noted, with mounting terror, that I wasn't really ... laughing. Yeah, there were a couple of nodding smiles, and the "Beemer" line got what would, on a Laugh Graph, be called "a snorty chuckle", but ... the usual, glorious, abandoned fug of a) borderline hysteria and b) intense emotional anguish, caused by minutely observed cases of total t***tishness, wasn't descending.

I was looking a cataclysm in the face: that Peep Show might have "gone off". We've all got to stop being funny some time. Maybe this was their time. Maybe it was all. Over. Or - maybe it was just a bad opening episode? So I rang people. I blagged. I cried. I sent a courier that cost £38. I got episode 2 sent over, and sat down to watch it in a state of pre-emptive tension rivalled only by the day before my C-section. And oh, thank God - episode 2 is one of the best episodes yet. Mark and Jez have a debate about the temperature setting on a boiler that is less like dialogue, more like an MRI scan of the idiot human brain. Then, later, Jez gets to deliver the line, "I'm a feminist - so I believe women should have any mad thing they want." It's all going to be OK. It's all still amazing. When The Thick of It comes back next month, the skies will be, once again, filled with the boom and clatter of their glorious rivalry.

The return of one of the finest ever sitcoms in the history of the world ever - fact! Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong's darkly comical flat share work of genius starring David Mitchell and Robert Webb is on tip top form as ever. Considering it's on its sixth series, that's no mean feat. Brilliant, inspired stuff!

I'm going to do a Derren Brown now and predict with absolute certainty that the winner of Most Popular Comedy in the National Television Awards in 2010 will NOT be Peep Show.

How do I know? Well, its ratings are so low it doesn't even make it on to the long-list, so you couldn't vote for it even if you wanted to.

How weird and depressing is that? Perhaps if Derren does succeed in gluing viewers to their sofas tonight, ratings will pick up.

Well done anyway to Channel 4 for keeping the faith. This is series six and they've already commissioned series seven, so the eight or nine of us who do appreciate this comedy gem will be able to get our weekly fix of David Mitchell and Robert Webb. Far from running out of steam, the show just keeps getting better and better and is even in tune with current affairs.

This week, Mark gets Jez a job at the finance company where he works - but the credit crunch is about to hit Croydon and that brand new sofa suddenly looks like a foolish extravagance.