Frank Skinner

Miranda Hart popped up all over the TV at Christmas, pratfalling her way through her own Yuletide special and the start of her third series. Not to mention Call The Midwife. Yet she still has time to drop by and do verbal battle with fellow guests John Craven and Reggie Yates as they try to persuade host Frank Skinner to dump their personal pet hates into Room 101. Bluetooth gets Yates's goat, Craven loathes Kindles, while Hart would like to dispose of her own breasts, which have been known to clap at inappropriate moments. Such fun.

You can't invite Miranda Hart on this kind of panel show and not expect her to dominate. She is one of three guests hoping to convince host Frank Skinner that their pet hates should be consigned to the vault of loathing - it's the new format they launched last year, remember?

So we get the usual airing of comedy grudges, but Hart breaks new ground when she nominates not just smartphones and pineapple on pizza but, in the wildcard round, her own breasts, bemoaning all the times they have embarrassed her (once when she was rolling over in bed naked, they clapped). Skinner, whose role is normally to argue on behalf of the things the guests hate, looks floored.

Meanwhile, Reggie Yates reveals a hatred of drinking yogurt (!I don't want a cup of gone-off stuff!) as well as the ubiquitous hip-hop handshake. It's left to John Craven to play it straight. He gets the biggest cheer of the night from the studio audience when he nominates e-books.

Comedy gold: Frank Skinner - Stand-Up

Think you know TV's Brummie quipster? Think again - his risqué stage persona could hardly be more different.

Frank Skinner interview

Ahead of hosting a new series of Room 101, Frank Skinner says meditation and confession help him to slay his demons.

When a comedian chats with someone in the front row of the audience, it's often the funniest part of the show. The performer spontaneously proving their smarts is a thrill.

Now imagine a panel game where comics grill punters who sit in designated seats and have been chosen because their lives or personalities are funny. Sounds great in theory, but you can't regiment banter. Even with Frank Skinner on the panel and Jack Dee hosting, every joke here is forced - until it emerges that one of the stooges used to be a porn actor, after which it's groansome easy wins all the way.

A new comedy series in which three comedians (this week Frank Skinner, Josh Widdicombe and Roisin Conaty), presided over by Jack Dee, mock the lives and habits of four selected (and willing) audience members. Each round sees the spectator with least comic value being voted off. Desperately unfunny.

Neil (Frank Skinner) and Kim (Katherine Parkinson, The IT Crowd) are back and their verbal jousting is more combative than ever. This couple of bookworms have no children to interrupt their thought processes and so have plenty of time to flash their razor-sharp rapiers of verbal brilliance until there's only one man - or woman - left standing.

As ever, the trigger for a tiff can be as harmless as a nursery rhyme: who'd have thought that Jack Sprat's decision to eat no fat made his wife a repressed woman? The spat that starts with the Sprats ends on a bonding note, where both Neil and Kim agree that singing songs while strumming an acoustic guitar results in painful squirming among one's associates and should always be avoided. The intellectual face-offs might still be full-blown, but now there's an inkling of the love and mutual respect that holds this odd couple together.

Sky comedy is hitting its stride, but this vehicle for Jessica Chaffin and Jamie Denbo's bickering Jewish matriarchs feels like a sideways step. The comic chat-show is fast resembling a dead-end format, it's a schlep at an hour and the so-so line-up for this opener doesn't help. That said, there are a few belly laughs, and kudos to the hosts for making an old pro like Frank Skinner look truly uncomfortable at the sex-obsessed, scatalogical line of questioning. Dirty old cove Charles Dance, meanwhile, positively revels in the prurience, and Alfie Boe looks shellshocked when he isn't hooting with bewilderment. The ad libs are delivered with more conviction than the scripted stuff (and enough with the 'outrageous' Holocaust gags), but there's certainly something to work with here; the prospect of Will Arnett next week is delicious.

Jewish Brooklyn housewives Ronna and Beverley (comic actors Jessica Chaffin and Jamie Denbo) bring their relentless maternal banter to UK shores. Something about that "Excuuuuse me. Terrific. Thenk you" accent makes almost every joke land, no matter how daft. Beverley shoulder-dances nervously throughout while kvetching about her labia. Ronna cuts through celebrity egos with her verbal exocets. They're terrifying and great fun once you get used to the kinetic speech patterns. Frank Skinner, Charles Dance and Alfie Boe are their first victims.