Doon Mackichan

Back for a full series despite last year's pilot, this retrograde sitcom follows the antics of a group of mountain rescue volunteers in the Highlands. That it's static, stagey and not really about anything - they don't do any rescuing tonight, preferring to stay in the pub in front of the live studio audience - wouldn't be a problem if the jokes were belters. But they're half-hearted, old or just baffling, driven by some weak characterisation. Even Sharon Rooney and Doon Mackichan are made to look mediocre.

Pointless Celebrities announces comedy special

Doon Mackichan, Nigel Planer, Adil Ray, Kevin Eldon, Nerys Hughes, Jeremy Dyson and The Chuckle Brothers are due to appear in a Comics edition of Pointless Celebrities. The episode will be broadcast on September 26 on BBC One.

A double bill to launch the new series of this splendidly daft sketch comedy from The League Of Gentlemen's Jeremy Dyson. Rebecca Front returns as the ever-patient psychologist and a dazzling cast of comedy performers - including Katy Brand, Morgana Robinson, Sam Spiro, Sharon Horgan, Doon Mackichan and Liza Tarbuck - play fantastically loopy women from history. Tonight Anna Nicole Smith comes to talk about her love life, and Anne Boleyn hopes for a happy resolution in her couples therapy.

Radio Times review

Pompous actor Steven Toast's nemesis, Ray Purchase, has ratted him out to The Tax People, so he owes £250,000 and he needs to find work, fast.

But suitable jobs are thin on the ground. Even John Midsomer Murders Nettles and has resorted to poaching to make ends meet. (Yes, that really is the John Nettles in a guest cameo).

In desperation, Toast's magnificently raddled agent, Jane Plough (Doon Mackichan) suggests that her client might like to direct a stage version of Calendar Girls.

Matt Berry as Toast is at his glorious best when he launches into tirades of scene-chewing pomposity. His outrageous treatment of the Calendar Girls women ("I intend to treat these people like cattle") will make your eyes water.

Radio Times review

A clutch of idiotic, skint blokes who constantly fail to attract the opposite sex as they bumble through life is a sitcom staple. But setting them in ancient Rome is the well-worked twist for this bright, engaging and frequently quick-witted comedy that won best new comedy at the British Comedy Awards in 2013.

In this series two opener, Marcus (Tom Rosenthal) tries to win the heart of the girl next door, while flatmate Stylax (Joel Fry) has his heart set on a lady-magnet chariot. Slave Grumio (Ryan Sampson) is probably the biggest delight with some fabulously deadpan asides. There's a decent new role for Neil Stuke, too, as the disreputable husband of the lads' fearsome boss Flavia (Doon Mackichan). And nostalgic sports fans will have a treat with Rosenthal's dad Jim commentating on the chariot race.

Toast of London is a crazy new comedy about a booming-voiced thespian about town. Matt Berry (the booming-voiced boss in The IT Crowd) is as compelling as you might expect as the crazy Steven Toast and Doon Mackichan is crazy enough as his crazy agent - seen in her office last week being pleasured by a muscular unclothed masseur with his genitals pixelated. Toast's flatmate is a bit crazy and Toast has a roster of crazy girlfriends. Last week's crazy plot in which Toast (surrounded by crazy military types) foiled a plan to blow up a nuclear submarine was... well, let's say I wasn't crazy about it.

There is a contingent of comedy fans - the really knowledgable ones with the excellent taste - for whom a little-seen BBC3 show from 2006 called Snuff Box represents the peak of British television. Matt Berry, who co-starred in and co-wrote that absurdist dark comedy, set in a gentlemen's club for hangmen, also stars in and co-wrote Toast of London. So is it the second coming we've been waiting for?

Slightly less knowledgable comedy fans, with slightly less excellent taste, may remember Berry as Douglas Reynholm in The IT Crowd or Dixon Bainbridge in The Mighty Boosh, but in this he finally takes the lead, playing portly middle-aged actor Stephen Toast, a role that allows full use of his booming voice. In the opening episode it was all going well for Toast: his agent, Janet Plough (Doon Mackichan), told him he'd won an acting award from a gossip magazine after 28 years in the biz, and women seemed to find him irresistible. So what if one was on bail for attempted murder and the other throws shopping trollies in canals for fun?

Where Snuff Box blended sketch, songs and character into something brand new, this felt more familiar sitcom territory - Toast even shares a bachelor pad, Men Behaving Badly-style, with Ed (Robert Bathurst). Yet while the "sit" was traditional, the "com" definitely wasn't. When Toast's flatmate brings home a conquest, it's not Leslie Ash from next door, but the Nigerian Ambassador's daughter, who has been transformed into a Generation Game-era Bruce Forsyth by a vengeful plastic surgeon.

The Berry sensibility was also retained with melodramatic camera zooms, a musical finale and a 1970s feel (albeit now located mainly in Toast's hairdo). This doesn't entirely get the BBC off the hook - they still need to commission more Snuff Box - but with the help of co-writer, Father Ted's Arthur Mathews, Berry hasn't had to restrain his imagination. Squeezing the larger-than-life luvvie Toast into a Sunday night sitcom set-up has just become part of the joke instead.

How come BBC Four gave Georgia Pritchett's hairdressing salon comedy Quick Cuts a mere three episodes only? Whether the reason was timidity or budgetary, the show definitely deserves to be swiftly recommissioned.

Combining a traditional sitcom format with sketch-show sensibilities, Quick Cuts followed the fortunes of salon owner Sue, her family and the disparate group of eccentrics and incompetents in her employ, but with the narrative frequently punctuated by short, sharp hairdresser-client encounters ranging from the truly inane to the deeply intimate.

Some of the sitcom plot lines felt a little forced, and Sue's dodgy boyfriend Trevor seemed to have walked in off a different show altogether, but Pritchett's dialogue was a delight, the cast were terrific and anything starring Doon Mackichan is, by definition, a good thing.

Doon Mackichan is in her element as salon owner Sue, whose wedding day is beset with comedy problems. Dodgy Trev, who's barred from all the pubs in town (and the whole of Bratislava), spends his stag night waiting for nature to take its course after the dog ate the wedding ring. Who cares about the stupidity of the plot and sketch-show style bits that fall flat when you're never far from one of Sue's blunt one-liners: "How do you want your hair? Atomic Mutton?", not to mention one-worders such as "thighbrows".

The choppy sitcom ends with a strong focus on family - not surprising, given it's set on the eve of Sue and Trev's wedding. After Sue's frightful mum comes in for her wedding "do" - "Atomic Mutton" - the salon owner (wonderful Doon Mackichan) turns into a nervous teenager in front of a mysterious customer. Who is she to Sue?

Elsewhere, Marianne's (or should that be Martin's?) dad comes in for an awkward chat and Trev (Paul Reynolds) finds the most disgusting way ever of getting a wedding ring. Silly, rude and funny.