Harry Venning

Imagine A Question Of Sport without the sports questions, combined with They Think It's All Over without the comedy and what you get is Sky 1's A League of Their Own.

Apparently the programme is available in high definition, although what it looks like really is the least of its problems. The show desperately struggles to fill its allotted hour, despite the best efforts of chairman James Corden and team captains Jamie Redknapp and Andrew Flintoff. They really do work hard for their money, with Flintoff proving surprisingly witty and charming.

But the format doesn't do anybody any favours, particularly the overworked scriptwriters who are expected to pour comedy into the yawning chasms apparent in the dull, unimaginative and painfully protracted format. Working out which of three sporting lookalikes enjoyed the most success took the teams all of 15 minutes.

There were some very fine gags but nowhere near enough of them. That the whole enterprise was shot through with tedious blokeyness, accompanied by the inevitable whiff of homophobia - the default setting for the terminally unfunny - just made it all the more agonising.

Romantic comedy drama has always been a precarious juggling trick to pull off, especially in the shadow of the Cold Feet's unassailable reputation. So all credit to writer Peter Souter for even attempting the feat with Married, Single, Other.

An ensemble piece, the show uses three contrasting pairs to explore various aspects of heterosexual, thirty-something, white, Anglo-Saxon coupledom. There is one black character, but so far she has had to conduct her relationship off-camera.

First up are Lillie (Lucy Davis) and Eddie (Shaun Dooley), partners and parents for 16 years, but yet to commit to marriage. Then we meet Babs (Amanda Abbington) and Dickie (Dean Lennox Kelly), practitioners of wildly satisfying sex, but emotionally incompatible and financially insoluble. Finally there's bed-hopping playboy Clint (Ralph Little) cherishing an uncharacteristic devotion to Abbey (Miranda Raison), a beautiful model who is tired of the attentions of shallow men.

So far, so formulaic, but Married, Single, Other really does strain to impress with dialogue that is clever to the point of infuriating. All of the characters, including the teenage cast members, effortlessly exchange the kind of badinage that looks great on paper, but tests an actor's abilities, and patience, to the limit. Davis and Dooley just about pull it off, everybody else struggles to convince.

Little has the hardest time. His casting as a smooth-talking, worldly-wise ad man/lothario is irretrievably undermined by the first shot he features in, with bare chested Clint seen sitting in his bed beneath a giant soft-porn nude photo that would offend the sexual sophistication of a 12-year-old boy. Quite how everybody involved failed to realise that this visual shorthand screamed 'I am emotionally and sexually retarded' is beyond me.

Clint, the show labours to assure us, is flawed, but likeable and this is largely how I feel about Married, Single, Other. There's not enough comedy and too much schmaltz, but episode one did contain several surprises and one genuine shock, with the characters sufficiently engaging to merit sticking with a little longer. Which isn't the advice I'd give to Abbey regarding Clint.

Not that Del Boy would have even been troubled by the absence of quality control, but Only Fools and Horses continued several series past its sell-by date and ended up a pale, and stale, imitation of its once great self. Writer John Sullivan then flogged the dead horse even further by giving the least interesting supporting character, Boycie, an ill-judged and mirth free spin-off, The Green Green Grass.

So my expectations were suitably low as I approached Rock & Chips, a feature length Only Fools and Horses prequel set in 1960.

Guess what? It was terrific. Freed from the tyrannical demands of a studio audience, Sullivan was able to explore his characters in greater depth, fashioning a genuinely moving love story infused with poignancy and charm. The laughs may not have come as thick and fast as in Only Fools' sitcom heyday, but the comic moments were of the highest quality and beautifully crafted into the narrative. For once the description comedy-drama was fully appropriate.

Sixteen year old Del Boy (James Buckley) and his Nags Head cronies were all present and correct, seen mounting the first rung on the entrepreneurial ladder by selling nylon fibre carpets that electrocuted anyone who set foot on them. However, the focus of the film fell upon Del's mother Joan (Kellie Bright), and how she met Rodney's father, career criminal Freddie "The Frog" Robdal. In a crowd-pleasing piece of casting, Nicholas Lyndhurst played Robdal and did a fine job of it, nicely capturing the conflicted emotions of a ruthless, self-serving, amoral ex-con bewildered by love.

The period setting was lovingly recreated, the performances top notch and the script - apart from a couple of instances where Sullivan needlessly spelt out the jokes - was first class. Lovely jubbly work, John. Now leave it alone.

Charlie Brooker's Newswipe came close to being made redundant by the earthquake in Haiti, a news story of such horrifyingly tragic proportions that even the reporting of it was almost beyond satire. Brooker promised a review of the Haiti coverage next week, presumably to allow time for a considered and sensitive response.

Meanwhile, there was more than enough other rubbish on air to keep him busy, belligerent and brilliant. Highlight of a consistently amusing show was a parody outside broadcast constructed entirely from the visual cliches so beloved of television news reporting.

The Fast Show is back. Only they've tweaked the format, introduced a spurious linking theme and changed the title to Bellamy's People. But otherwise, it's Charlie Higson, Paul Whitehouse and their repertory company, frequently unrecognisable beneath mountains of prosthetic make-up, parading a quick-fire array of quirky, comic creations.

Based on Radio 4's spoof, Down the Line, the show has late-night phone-in host Gary Bellamy abandon his cosy studio for the open roads of Great Britain and, as the credits are at great pains to point out, Northern Ireland, to meet the people.

These include reformed bank robbers, self-appointed community leaders, opinionated plasterers, hysterical female fans and two elderly sisters, divided by their extreme political views, who converse in a gibberish language of their own making.

Bellamy's People isn't startlingly original and is gently amusing rather than thigh- slappingly funny, but it is still worth watching for the beautifully observed performances and the occasional flash of genius in the script. My favourite line came from Higson's elderly country gentleman, proudly showing off his computer. "If we don't keep up with the times," he muses, "we might as well just lie down in the road and be run over by the next pantechnicon."

Rab C Nesbitt returned after a wee break of 11 years, but not much had changed. Same vest, same suit, same grubby grey bandage and same delicious one-liners.

The Glasgow Tourist Board might despair at the portrayal of their city and its inhabitants, but for everybody else, Rab is a treasure.

Episode One found him trying to restore filial bonds with estranged son Gash, "I am a recovering alcoholic, you are a reformed junkie," argues Rab. "Let us join hands across the Hepatitis C."

The Persuasionists is a sitcom set in an advertising agency and all I can say is hats off to whoever sold this pup to the BBC.

Episode one saw the creative dynamos of HHHH&H attempting to market Cockney Cheese, brainchild of a tediously stereotypical East End entrepreneur.

Cockney Cheese was a sludgy brown, whilst his follow up product, Cockney Chocolate, pursued the scatological theme and was yellow. "It smells awfully familiar," observed the team, turning up their noses. Uncharitable viewers may be tempted to think a similar smell was emanating from the programme.

In the spirit of constructive criticism, let me say that The Persuasionists isn't as bad as the recent Amanda Holden debacle Big Top. Which isn't saying much, but is indicative of how low the sitcom bar now rests.

The Persuasionists is a mess, infused with that embarrassing mania that invariably takes hold of sitcoms free from humour, plot or characterisation. There is quite a zany foreigner called Keaton, but he is such a shameless - and pale - imitation of Kramer from Seinfeld that he doesn't really count.

The programme's only redeeming feature is Daisy Haggard as odious rich girl Emma. As all around her overact, shout and try out funny accents with increasing volume but to diminishing effect, Haggard somehow fashions a funny performance from the flimsiest of comic material.

Ostensibly a comedy-drama, but much nearer in spirit and dramatic depth to pantomime, Material Girl stars Lenora Crichlow as Ali - unsung, unappreciated and cruelly exploited as chief designer of fashion house diva Davina Bailey. Forced to stand in the wings, while wicked boss Davina garners all the catwalk kudos in Paris, Ali is then passed over for the promotion she is entitled to and resigns in protest. But fashion can be a cruel, cruel world to a poor, defenceless girl with just a design portfolio and a pair of Manolo Blahnik's to fall back on...

The stage is set for a reworking of Cinderella with no less than two handsome princes, a disreputable old count, several best friend Buttons and more queens - wicked or otherwise - that you could shake a wand at. Its all very frothy, shallow and silly, but Material Girl is spuriously glamorous and provides enough undemanding fun to fill an hour. Whether it can sustain a series remains to be seen.

The final episode of Gavin and Stacey saw lovesick Smithy interrupt Nessa's wedding to Dave Coaches with a speech so poignant, funny and beautifully delivered that you could almost forgive writer/star James Corden for Horne & Corden. Almost, but not quite.

Harry Venning on writing radio comedy

Harry Venning took a decade to get Clare in the Community, his first radio sitcom, broadcast. After launching a second show, Sneakiepeeks, this month, the ex-actor shares his tips with aspiring broadcast writers.