Eileen Atkins

Oooh, look who still hasn't gone to London. To the amazement of absolutely no-one, Martin Ellingham is still in Port Wenn and this week he's burying his auntie Joan.

"I can't believe she's dead," one of the locals sympathises, and you can tell from the doc's expression that he's thinking: "Well, she'd better be, or else this funeral is a complete waste of time."

It's a chance for Doc Martin to deliver another inappropriate eulogy that's as heartfelt as the health warnings on cigarette packets. But as one aunt exits, another arrives in the shape of aunt Ruth, played by Dame Eileen Atkins.

As Louisa discovers, Ruth is almost as socially stunted as her nephew and is a psychiatrist for the criminally insane. We hope Broadmoor isn't expecting her back at work, though, because it looks like she'll also be sticking around a while longer.

There's a funeral in Portwenn that leaves Dr Martin Ellingham (Martin Clunes) both solemn and grumpy, a devastating combination. After ticking off the funeral director for arriving eight minutes late with the coffin, he then berates the congregation during what is supposed to be his eulogy: "A good percentage of the people in this church are clinically obese."

Just to add to the chaos, a pallid young pallbearer, the son of the undertaker, collapses in pain (dropping the coffin in the process, of course). Luckily, sanity of a sort comes with the arrival of Martin's formidable, clipped and rather splendid Auntie Ruth (Eileen Atkins, a welcome addition). She's just as much of a no-nonsense type as her nephew, telling Louisa: "I either alienate or over-share."

So Doc Martin obviously still hasn't left for his new job in London and moves back, supposedly temporarily, into the old surgery. It looks like he's going to hang around for the time being. But you've probably already guessed that, haven't you?

Murderous Maureen is on her last legs, but slow-witted son David has misremembered the one thing she'd like to do before she dies. It's not wine tasting in France. Mr Jelly, the misanthropic clown, has a makeover to become Mr Jolly and makes a disturbing discovery in Jolly's vault. We also learn that obsessive librarian Jeremy has an unexpected link to Ravenhill Hospital. This is perhaps the blackest instalment yet, with corpses and dismembered body parts piling up. The laughs may be diminishing, but Psychoville remains stylishly crafted and exquisitely performed. Just as in The League of Gentlemen, Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton manage to invest even their vilest characters with fl ashes of pathos. And who could resist another dose (in flashback) of Eileen Atkins as tyrannical Nurse Kenchington?

A special edition of the macabre comedy thriller from The League of Gentlemen's Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton. It centres on a television location manager, Shearsmith, who has taken his camera with him to the abandoned ruins of the fictional Ravenhill Psychiatric Hospital. He is investigating stories about the ghost of its evil former governess, Edwina Kenchington (Eileen Atkins), for a Most Haunted style programme. In true Psychoville style, the episode is both hilarious and unsettling. Four eccentric tales of terror unfold, each featuring one of the regular characters from the series - the bitter, one-handed children's entertainer Mr Jelly (Shearsmith), the deranged midwife Joy (Dawn French) and her baby, the blind millionaire Mr Lomax (Pemberton), and the serial-killer enthusiast David Sowerbutts (Pemberton again) and his mother. The Mr Jelly one - which sees him opening the door to two mysterious trick-or-treaters - is the strangest, and the funniest. Artfully written and well acted, like the previous award-winning series, this may at times be too odd and too disturbing for some viewers to stomach.

Psychoville has a Marmite effect on viewers: the story of a group of grotesques bought together by menacing notes, it reached an ingenious conclusion last night. Mr Jolly the clown was revealed as the puppeteer, Eileen Atkins was the sadistic matron of the asylum where all the characters were once resident (and where the wannabe serial killer David first struck - Atkins's nurse his victim, after a vicious series of electric shocks). Each character, every line, was cannily, cleverly drawn, toilet humour dovetailing with jolting pathos - and there's nothing like an explosion for a cliffhanger.

Twenty-five minutes of patient build-up culminate in a curiously hurried pay-off as the horror-comedy-thriller reaches a gruesome climax tonight. Amid cross and double-cross, David, Joy, Mr Lomax, Mr Jelly and Robert are all drawn back to the scene of their crime tonight, together with their respective hangers-on (literally, in Mr Jelly's case) to face the world's most incompetent blackmailer.

To say more would spoil things, but rest assured that Eileen Atkins & her motivating tool, a cattle prod ("I don't know how Trevor Nunn does it..") have a part to play.

The clash between the nightmarish and the workaday once again finds another perfect setting when David is locked into a dispute with the Citizens Advice Bureau over whether his murders were all committed in the same borough. And so what if the ending is a bit scrappy? At least it leave enough threads dangling for a richly deserved second series.

It's a bitterly cold November morning in a Mill Hill seminary, so cold that it's hard to distinguish the mist and dry ice from our breath. St Joseph's College was founded in 1866, and Steve Pemberton, looking of a similar vintage under heavy make-up, is rocking a ZZ Top in Middle Earth look, with wispy beard and satin gown. He's also lost a wart, but in between searches he sits down to chat about new project Psychoville. Fellow The League of Gentlemen alumnus and co-creator Reece Shearsmith has also stopped by, thankfully in civvies rather the outre garb of some of his characters.

The show, both concede, is unavoidably reminiscent of Royston Vasey in its grotesque characters, reference-heavy humour (episode four is a Hitchcock tribute, shot in just two takes in the manner of 'Rope') and even the name; Psychoville is the title used for The League of Gentlemen in Korea.

But there's no sense of recycling ideas. The characters may be oddballs, but they're driving a crafted narrative and are played by a broader cast. There's disturbed midwife Joy (Dawn French, right), misanthropic kids' entertainer Mr Jelly (Shearsmith), telekinetic dwarf Robert (Jason Tompkins), serial killer-obsessed David (Pemberton) and his mum, Maureen (Shearsmith), and Mr Lomax, a blind recluse with, yes, a straggly beard (Pemberton). Eileen Atkins and Christopher Biggins are also among the deliciously eclectic on-screen talent who've at least had the courage of their convictions. 'We've had famous people saying: "I'll do anything, I'll make sandwiches."' laughs Shearsmith. 'Then you offer them a part and they say: "Not for me."'

The co-creators' curious real-life experiences once again bleed into the characters. 'Joy the midwife came from sitting with glum dads in antenatal classes,' says Shearsmith, with appropriate gloom. And Mr Lomax? 'I used to work for a blind man while I was at college,' remembers Pemberton. 'I thought I'd be reading Dickens and we'd do crosswords together. I ended up writing his cheques and reading out financial reports. If there was a graph, I'd leave it out - how do you describe a graph to a blind person?'

Most grimly, David was 'the friend of a friend. He was jaundiced and his mother only had one leg. Someone went to their house and saw these bottles of wee from where she couldn't get to the toilet; she was scratching her son's back with her foot. As an opening image, that's terrific!'

Horizons are broader than they were in The League, with five locations forming the backdrop to the stories of the main characters. Each setting, from Wood Green to Ilkley, has its own tonal palette (London's is orange, to fit David and his mum's curtains - and skin).

And gradually, the plot brings these disparate, scattered characters together to reveal the secrets hinted at when each receives an anonymous letter claiming: 'I know what you did.' The mystery is all the more enveloping as neither writer knew how it would end. 'We were writing ourselves into corners,' says Shearsmith. 'But if we didn't know how we were going to untangle ourselves, then hopefully the audience can't second-guess us.'

Later on, we join director Matt Lipsey in the catering truck, where he's chuckling wearily about episode four. 'The scripts are so detailed, it makes my life hell, but it's the complexity that makes the show. That 'Rope' episode was painstaking, but it was exciting for the actors: as they got closer and closer to completing it they got more and more nervous about screwing it up. Which one of them did on take 15 ...'

Psychoville is evidence that there are commissioners at the BBC willing to take a risk in a conservative climate. 'Anything that smacks of a diktat from on high is dangerous,' Lipsey argues. 'Surely it's about diversity.' Pemberton and Shearsmith concur. 'When we wrote this in 2006,' says Pemberton, 'we heard that dark was out and big and funny was in. But we ended up being drawn to the things we were drawn to anyway.' And, rather than conduct the first read-through in a White City conference room, they did it in front of 250 people in a Notting Hill theatre. 'We wanted to hear the sound of laughter so they didn't just think it was something dark and weird that no one would find funny,' he beams.

But, creepily hilarious as Psychoville undoubtedly is, one question still hangs in the air: what about a League reunion? 'The will is there,' begins Shearsmith. 'There's no reason why not,' adds Pemberton, before wandering off into the chill in search of another wart. Trust us, saying 'Hello David' for the next few weeks is no bad thing.

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!"