Julia Raeside

Have you been watching ... Stella?

Ruth Jones writes and stars in this warm and witty Sky1 comedy drama about a Welsh single mum.

Alfred Molina and Dawn French return as the "lovable" Roger and Val in this oddly antiseptic two-hander. It must be the script that so drains the charm from their relationship, because it's not the actors. Direction and dialogue manage to create a chilly vacuum between audience and characters. No one talks like this: a husband and wife almost never address each other by name, but these two never stop Val-ing and Roger-ing. So to speak.

Stella psyches herself up for her date with Sean but is terrified of him seeing her in the buff. Big Alan still thinks he's in with a chance and hopes to woo her at the rugby. Meanwhile, her brother Dai goes to pieces when the benefits office questions his disability payments, and a letter arrives from Canada with life-changing news for Luke. But the plot is mildly diverting background for Ruth Jones's performance and able support from Elizabeth Berrington and Owen Teale. If it was in any doubt, the show has second series written all over it.

Stella's still being pursued by the handsome boxer/decorator but has no idea why. She goes to see Emma's prospective in-laws and finds them ideologically opposed when it comes to a woman's place in the home. The show's appeal is 90% down to Ruth Jones's effortless performance. She doesn't telegraph emotions or sentiment, but simply lets them play gently across her face. You are rooting for her in every scene. If this is the kind of thing she produces sans Corden, she is on to a winner.

Ruth Jones's refreshing comedy drama continues. Wedding preparations are in full swing for Emma's shotgun union to Sunil, and Stella is looking forward to Luke's homecoming from prison. But the town comes to a standstill when local rugby legend Dick the Kick dies suddenly and all attention turns to giving him a hero's funeral. All of which is good news for alcoholic funeral director Paula, who could really use the cash. A great cast and some quietly confident writing are underpinned with just enough warmth to avoid the whole thing melting to a sticky, gooey mess.

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Jonathan Ross presides as comedians and TV producers drink themselves wretched and honk and bellow over each other's speeches. Probable attendees include last year's victor Miranda Hart, and this year's nominees for the public vote, Jack Whitehall, David Mitchell, Sarah Millican, Jo Brand and Graham Norton. But best of all, it's live. That combination of booze and live broadcast is really the only reason for this in the first place.

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