Jesse Armstrong

The Thick of It writer criticises BBC America censors

Jesse Armstrong described the move to 'bleep' Armando Iannucci's award-winning political satire as an "error".

A trio of Twilight Zone-style stories exploring the impact of new media and technology on our lives. Charlie Brooker's The National Anthem (an "unusual" blackmail threat for the prime minister), and 15 Million Merits (X Factor distraction culture pushed to extremes) - co-written with Konnie Huq - grabbed the headlines, but The Entire History Of You (by Peep Show's Jesse Armstrong) is worth catching too. What happens to relationships in a world where everything you see is recorded on a kind of Sky+ in your head?

Black Mirror - "The Entire History of You"

The final part of Charlie Brooker's Black Mirror anthology comes instead from the mind of Jesse Armstrong, one half of the writing partnership behind comedies Peep Show and Fresh Meat. This marks a change of style for Armstrong, as there wasn't much to smile about in "The Entire History Of You" (well, beyond the one cereal joke).

Imagine if memories weren't foggy, unreliable things. Imagine if your every moment was logged by a little device implanted behind your ear and wired into your brain. Imagine if you could then view each day, each scene of your life at will and pore over it to the point of obsession. Jesse Armstrong has imagined just that in loving detail for the third of Channel 4's techno-fables.

A sick and sinuous story unfolds of a young lawyer who has an unsatisfactory appraisal meeting, then goes to a dinner where his wife is meeting old friends. Something in her body language bothers him and as he examines and re-examines it, he stirs up a storm of jealousy that can't end well.

Looking for a programme that isn't slathered in festive sentimentality? There's certainly not a sliver of tinsel in sight here. Written by Peep Show's Jesse Armstrong, it's the last in a trio of dark satires on our media-obsessed age. Toby Kebbell and Jodie Whittaker are among the actors trapped in a world where people can opt for a memory implant that records, and stores, all they do, see and hear. But total recall has its downsides.

So how does Charlie Brooker's new comic drama - the first of two, with a third written by Jesse Armstrong - open? A touching tale of a WI picnic in 1940s Lancashire? Not quite.

No, we get angst, nightmare and warped comedy dipped in the blackest of paint. A royal princess is kidnapped and the ransom demand - and please stop reading now if you're of a delicate disposition - is that the Prime Minister must have sex with a pig, live on national TV, or the princess gets it.

Rory Kinnear is brilliantly grim as the PM, horrified to discover his beastly dilemma is all over the internet before he can get a lid on the story. He and the whole cast play it very straight, deadpanning lines like "This is virgin territory, Prime Minister, there's no playbook" - which only makes them funnier.

What unfolds as the crisis plays out is filthy and hilarious, but with a dark, satirical edge. Think The Thick of It - and then some.

The idea of having different writers pen each episode of a sitcom is a good one. It's what they do in American television. And with old hands such as Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong in charge, Fresh Meat has kept up a high standard. Until now.

Tonight's episode of the student house-share comedy isn't bad, it's not bad at all. But by the standards of the series so far, it's a little... blunt. Instead of amusingly suppressed sexual tension between the student housemates, we have sex and (mostly) talk of sex, as well as drugs and talk of drugs.

The storyline that works best is between Oregon (Charlotte Ritchie)and her creepy tutor/lover Professor Shales (brilliantly played by Tony Gardner), who awkwardly criss-cross the murky waters between work and pleasure. Meanwhile, Kingsley makes a revelation about his (so far) sheltered life.

It's the best house-sharing sitcom since Spaced and last week's opening episode wasn't a fluke. The new series from Peep Show's Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong delivers laugh after excruciating laugh in its second episode tonight as it skewers the student lifestyle and Russell Brand's head into the bargain.

Tonight Robert Webb turns up as an over-eager tutor, ("On Twitter I'm Dan, Dan the Geology Man!") as Kingsley and co attempt to throw a party.

While Vod's sole aim is to cop off with the lead singer in a band, Oregon (who has adopted Vod as her new role model) is desperately trying to hide the fact that she has a car lest her housemates discover that she is (gasp) secretly middle-class and normal.

Once again though it's Jack Whitehall as the obnoxious JP who's trying hardest to impress. The scene involving a rowing machine and a spliff is just superb.

It's not a treat you get every day, the joy of stumbling on a loveable, bankably funny sitcom. So make the most of this, because after the assured start in episode one, Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong's unromantic comedy set in a student house gets into its stride tonight.

Jack Whitehall is still the standout, playing sordid toff JP, fresh from Stowe and full of phrases like "The guy's a ledge", "No problemo" and "Heinous". His assurance is a little dented tonight when he bumps into two old school chums he's desperate to impress.

Meanwhile, the awkwardness mounts between star-crossed non-lovers Kingsley (Joe Thomas) and Josie (Kimberley Nixon) as the housemates decide to have a party - and it turns into a "brodeo".