Dawn French

If you're freaked out by the idea of a mother scratching the flaky skin off her eczema-riddled son's back while he bones up on his serial killer trivia before she suggestively rearranges his crotch area and says "Go and get a dustpan and brush, I've got half your back between my legs", then his new seven-part comedy thriller from half of The League of Gentlemen may not be for you. If you can take it, though, and deal with a brilliantly creepy Dawn French as a midwife who treats her plastic demo baby as if its real, and a twisted one-handed clown who never takes off his make-up - oh, and let's not forget the dwarf porn - then please don't miss Psychoville. The central mystery kicks off when this group of disparate strangers, who seem to have nothing in common apart from the fact they're freaky, suddenly receive letters saying "I know what you did". Its sick, twisted and perverse, but beautifully made and very funny.

A sinister clown with a fake hand, a blind toy-collecting recluse, a midwife besotted with a baby doll - no surprise to learn the creators of this new comedy thriller are The League of Gentlemen's Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton.

"The BBC wanted a family show, but things didn't pan out" admits Reece, 39. "In fact, its more horrible than The League! TV executives kept telling us, 'Dark comedy is out - we want big and funny' but thankfully, BBC bosses liked it."

As with the inhabitants of their previous creation, Royston Vasey, Psychoville is crammed with strange, sinister characters. They have nothing in common, except five of them receive an anonymous black-edged card that reads 'I know what you did...'. However, unlike The League, Reece and Steve play only a few roles, and instead have a starry line-up of regulars and guests, including Dawn French, Janet McTeer and Eileen Atkins.

Reece, who lives in North London with his wife Jane, says his kids - Holly, six and Danny, four - will have to wait a long time before they're allowed to watch his gruesome shows. "They'll have to be at least 35" he laughs, "They call it 'Daddy's silly work'. But I'm draconian about what they see, which is hypocritical because I saw lots of gore as a kid - but then look how I turned out!"

Though made by only two members of The League of Gentlemen, Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton, Psychoville is clearly twinned with Royston Vasey. It has the same grotesque characters, the same creepy, dependent relationships. But unlike the League, they're living, more or less, in the real world - the joke, repeatedly, is the clash between the gothic nightmare and the ordinary.

There is a clown whose idea of a "princess party" for a girl is more like a torture party; there are feuding panto dwarves, one of whom has a crush on Snow White; there is an uncomfortable mother and son duo with a worrying knowledge of serial killers. But the scariest of all is played by Dawn French, as a nurse with an obsessive love for her 'baby'. She is what you imagine the truth to be behind those documentaries about people who keep monkeys as children or believe they are married to the Eiffel Tower.

On paper, Psychoville should seem like a retread, but the ongoing mystery - many of the characters are receiving anonymous letters - and some disturbing but genuine laughs keep it compelling.

That's all folks!

As they finally call it a day, French & Saunders reflect on their highs and lows of 30 years at the top.

Dawn French was let down by dated material in Mastering The Universe, by Christopher Douglas and Nick Newman, a retread of domestic sex wars which might have found a home with Terry and June.

Joan Of Arc really loves the cows she looks after for a living, so when those b*****d English put them to death by fire she's on the warpath. And she's going to save the whole of France as well. Dawn French plays the Maid of Orleans with a Jam and Jerusalem West Country accent and there are constant references to her large girth. She's in her comfort zone, but so are we.

Written by Patrick Barlow and co-starring Anne Reid, Maggie Steed and Jim Broadbent, this play's comedy credentials are impeccable. But when events turn more serious, the sound effects conflict, trial and fire are full-on and genuinely moving. As Joan trips towards her famous fate, she loves and loses not just cows.

Patrick Barlow and Jim Broadbent were the original National Theatre of Brent, with an approach to the great themes of drama somewhat akin to that of the painter LS Lowry's to the industrial north: apparently naive but actually perceptive. Barlow and Broadbent, on their own, tackling everything from the nativity to Shakespeare, were very funny. This is Barlow's take on the story of St Joan, maiden warrior and martyr, played here by Dawn French. Broadbent appears in the unexpectedly large cast list which includes Cheryl Campbell and John Ramm, with Anne Reid and Maggie Steed as Joan's guardian angels.

Miranda Hart is shaping up as the Big Lady of the future. If Dawn French built a career out of being hefty without mentioning it, and Jo Brand did it by mentioning it incessantly, Hart's new sitcom (so much a trailer for a TV version that they are already filming the TV version) trades on her not only being big, but very tall and extremely posh. And frequently taken for a man. She has never had sex (a consignment of chocolate penises comes into the shop. They're very lifelike, she says. No they're not, says her waspish co-owner). She has terrible chat-up lines: I weighed my breasts. They cost £1.48 to post, and you'd have to use Parcel Force. She's terrific. Wasted on TV.

Please someone kick the Bucket

TV critic Jim Shelley absolutely slams into this French and Saunders clip show, pointing out its many flaws in the process.

The Vicar of Dibley (BBC1) is gone for good. She'll come no more. Never, never, never, never. Never mind, we get to keep Dawn French, a joyful creature and a world-class clown.