Gregor Fisher

The 10th series of the brilliantly boorish sitcom concludes. Govan welcomes a new minister (Felicity Montagu) who has two obvious drawbacks. She's English and female. She's got her work cut out with Rab (Gregor Fisher) whose Christianity has been severely tested - he's been coveting his best pal's special bottle of wine. Later tonight on BBC Two Rab faces another test. Jowly journalist John Sergeant travels to Govan to interview the veteran skiver. The pair discuss Rab's tally of triumphs and disasters backed by clips of his greatest moments.

Last week's visit from the government minister "for work" has set a political tone for the latest series of the decades-old Scots sitcom. "You can tell there's a recession on when the poor start getting naked," observes a shirtless Rab (Gregor Fisher) in this episode, in which Rab and Jamesie (Tony Roper) try to set themselves up as sexy male cleaners. And when Rab's wife Mary (Elaine C Smith) is made redundant, she decides to put her singing talents to good use by forming a girl band, but her performance in the local pub ends in disaster. Susan Boyle guest stars as a talent show judge.

The point of Rab C Nesbitt, as played by Gregor Fisher, is that he doesn't get what his little heart craves; there's nothing down for him, ever. But in a radical departure, the Govan guttersnipe demanded the polis fetch him a double-cuffed silk shirt a la Jason King in Department S and not only did the garment arrive, but it was delivered by the closest and most bouffant approximation of Peter Wyngarde that BBC Scotland could find, having already spent most of the guest-appearance budget on Richard E Grant and John Sessions. Still, Rab wins - hurray!

An icon but more than that, a heid-the-ba' too, Nesbitt was last seen in series form 12 long years ago in the history of our pawky land. A Christmas special in 2008 hinted at a proper return but the time wasn't quite right. Rab is back now because the Tories are back. Once again, creator Ian Pattison has sharpened his pen for jokes about public service cuts and Mary Doll having to pawn her engagement ring, this time with a gloopy topping of "broken Britain" platitudes - and most of them are pretty funny.

In the opener, Grant played the Minister for Work, a posho called Chingford Steel kidnapped by the Nesbitts. This wasn't their intention, but they quickly got the hang of hostage-taking and "Jihad patter". "Is the minister chained to a radiator?" loud-hailered the polis. No, said Mary, and anyway they were white-meter. In return for Steel, could they get a "fanatical new boiler and a fanatical heated towel-rail as well?" Rab proposed an improved No 34 bus service between Govan and Castlemilk as the present one was "gantin'". What a hero, always thinking of others, while dressed in an outrageous blouse in what you'd almost have to call Thatcher Blue, although tragically we didn't actually see him slip it over his string vest.

Rab C Nesbitt was back for a tenth series tonight and he'd brought with him scatological humour, foul language and Richard E Grant in his finest acting role since he played Clifford in Spice World: The Movie.

While the 10pm broadcast of this first episode - entitled 'Broke' - may have seemed slightly odd at first, the reasons for the late slot soon became clear: In the opening few minutes we were treated to a scene in which Rab urinated into a plastic tub from his bed and another where the inside of his anus was thoroughly 'groped' by a doctor.
Both incidents were accompanied by noises so graphic that the episode's post-dinnertime slot was immediately justified.

And the sound effects weren't the only element of Nesbitt's return that lacked subtlety; the dialogue and its delivery by Gregor Fisher and co. was as broad and indiscreet as ever.

There wasn't much about this week's plot that was subtle, either. Grant's character, MP Chingford Steel, found himself held hostage by Rab and Mary as they demanded central heating from the authorities in a less-credible-than-usual storyline.

But there's still plenty to recommend the new series. The kidnap plot line proved that its writers' imaginations haven't run dry and the series' refusal to bow to canned laughter or received pronunciation is as refreshing as it ever was.

Gregor Fisher interview

Rab C Nesbitt returned to BBC Two for its tenth series last night, as unapologetically grimy - and as popular - as ever. Jay Richardson met the man behind the string vest, Gregor Fisher, to discuss the show's political potency, 'orchestral' scripts, and clashes with the BBC's 'mustn't offend' culture...

He might be pushing 60, but Gregor Fisher's string-vested waster shows no signs of slowing down as Rab returns for a 10th series tonight.

In the first episode, he and wife Mary (Elaine C Smith) accidentally end up holding a government minister hostage in their lovely Govan home.

With guest star Richard E Grant hamming it up as suave MP Chingford Steel, this is a chance for some outrageous ransom demands as Rab decides to pass himself off as a terrorist.

Bad taste? Absolutely - although perhaps not nearly so off-putting as Rab's prostate check-up, which we're also lucky enough to witness.

Delighted to find himself at the centre of a siege, Rab isn't going to waste this once-in-a-lifetime chance. "This is Strictly Come Dancing for scum," as he explains to Mary.

Even if you only understand every other word, this sitcom is still in the rudest health.

Radio Times review

The work-shy Scot returns to our screens for a tenth series of this Marmite-flavoured comedy. Still a philosopher who lies in the gutter but looks at the stars, Rab (Gregor Fisher) proudly asserts his status as Govan scum, and even giving up the drink doesn't hinder him. Add an unrelenting stream - sometimes literally - of vulgarity and this sitcom is not for the pure of heart or for genteel softies.

Now he's pushing 60, Rab takes his wife Mary's advice to get himself checked out by the NHS, while we still have one. Be warned: nothing is left to the imagination.

Meanwhile, Minister for Work Chingford Steel (guest star Richard E Grant) happens to call, expecting to use the facilities of the Nesbitt household. He gets a great deal more than he bargained for. This is a comedy where the humour isn't just broad, it's wider than the Clyde.

He may have given up his psychosis to spend more time with the family, but Gregor Fisher's ageing rapscallion Rab is still capable of creating considerable mayhem. Tonight, that means being at the centre of a siege when Mary kidnaps the minister of work, Chingford Steel (Richard E Grant). Funny, but don't expect subtlety, especially when Rab goes to the doctor because he's worried about his prostate: "There could be pie suppers lodged up there from the summer of love."

Govan's favourite savant returns for a new series of armchair philosophising and lewd cracks better suited to the schoolyard. Tonight Rab (Gregor Fisher) worries about the state of his prostate before the plot veers from ridiculous to surreal. Rab's wife Mary (Elaine C Smith), upset at losing her job, assaults the Minister for Work (Richard E Grant) with a frying pan and takes him hostage. The skillet is an apt metaphor for the unsubtle comedy, but the programme is also shot through with the sort of astute social observations that are this sitcom's trademark.

Gregor Fisher admits age is catching up on him

Rab C Nesbitt's days on the streets of the south side of Glasgow could be numbered - ­because Gregor Fisher thinks he's getting too old.