Doon Mackichan

I have seen several episodes of Taking the Flak, the BBC's satire upon their own foreign correspondents, and it has yet to become embedded in my affections.

The characters are in a world in which grieving relatives and photogenic orphans are at a premium, shots to camera must be accompanied by just the right amount of hand wringing and two minutes on Newsnight fully justifies any and every act of misconduct during filming.

The BBC had enough faith in Taking the Flak to bankroll location shooting in Kenya, and they have been rewarded with a self-assured, amusing and original comedy with more than a whiff of authenticity about it. Plus any show with Doon Mackichan among the cast is, by definition, a very good thing.

However, the characters simply fail to engage, or even surprise. Perhaps we have seen too many television comedies recently about the wacky world of television, populated by jaundiced and manipulative self-serving cynics, to care any more.

A cold-hearted sitcom brutally ribbing something close to the Beeb's heart: the producers, stringers and reporters in war zones itching to get their three minutes on News At Ten. The script for this opener, set in a conflict-ridden African backwater, is not quite as zinging as its obvious point of comparison, Drop The Dead Donkey, but there are at least plenty of heroes and villains, including Doon Mackichan's stressed-out producer and Martin Jarvis's lazy, big-shot reporter.

Smack the Pony trio to reunite

Former Smack the Pony stars Doon Mackichan, Sally Phillips and Fiona Allen are reuniting, six years after they last appeared on television together, as the writers and performers of a new comedy drama.

Even with Jonathan Ross as a three hour warm-up man, Buy Me Up TV failed to coax the glimmer of a smile on to my face.

The talents of Doon Mackichan couldn't rescue Justin Edwards' and James Eldred's account of life behind the scenes at a 24-hour shopping channel.

Perhaps, judging that this setting has been the subject of numerous satires, the authors settled for a frenzied facsimile of life at the consumerist cutting edge. Everyone sounded barking, indeed on the verge of a nervous breakdown, perhaps because they had to cope with dialogue that could apparently only be delivered at ear-shattering volume. The audience laughter was strangely disturbing, as if they had been force fed E numbers before being manacled to their seats.