Liza Tarbuck

The folk of Mount Pleasant are all covered in snow and good cheer as is proper at this time of year. We join them at first light on Christmas morning and no one has held back on the decorations. Bianca's bought Gary one of everything from the Argos catalogue, Dan and Lisa are exchanging gifts, and Pauline and Charlie are heading for their first domestic of the day. David Bradley, Paula Wilcox, Sally Lindsay, Liza Tarbuck: it's one of the most impressive casts on British television. If you like a bit of well-crafted family fun, you're in safe hands here.

This is the third attempt to put JAM on the box, the BBC having done it previously in 1994 and 1999. Parsons and Merton appear in each episode, with guests appearing being Sue Perkins, Gyles Brandreth, Stephen Fry, Liza Tarbuck, Graham Norton, Josie Lawrence and Julian Clary. There are also a fair number of new contestants: Jason Manford, Miles Jupp, Ruth Jones, Phill Jupitus, John Sergeant and Russell Tovey.

The format is the same, but there are some obvious changes; for a start, there's no scorer sitting next to Parsons. Instead he just has the scores on a screen, and the clock is started by a large button next to him. There's also a little bell rang to indicate they are moving into the final round.

Some things do remain the same, though. The studio is designed to look like the art deco BBC Radio Theatre, where the radio series is normally recorded. For some reason, however, the studio lights change from blue to purple when the subjects start. Why they need to do this I have no idea. I find the camerawork even more irritating. There's no need to cut from here to there every three seconds.

However, there's still much to enjoy from this show. I for one enjoy the little amusing asides that go through out each episodes. My personal favourite was in the fourth episode when the panel kept making jokes about Miles Jupp being the supposed love child of Gyles Brandreth. The jokes just kept snowballing throughout.

With regards to the TV adaptation, I know that there will always be people who will insist that it's not as good as the one on radio, but there are always people who complain about TV adaptations of radio shows. If we rejected every TV adaptation of a radio adaptation out of hand we wouldn't have had the TV successes of shows like Whose Line is it Anyway? or Little Britain.

I'd love to see more episodes of the TV version of Just a Minute; but I doubt they'll produce them. Unless they want to celebrate the show's 50th anniversary, that is, and given that Parsons is 88 years old that might be a bit dangerous.

The sight of Bianca (Sian Reeves playing yet another over-the-top maneater like in Cutting It and Emmerdale) ­highlights the obvious ingredients chucked into this new sitcom.

And that's before we meet Sue (Pauline Collins) who arrives with a cry of "Only me!" and Barry (Bobby Ball).

On the other hand, it's a cut above Candy Cabs, filmed nearby, although that's not saying much.

For Mount Pleasant, read upmarket Hale in Cheshire, home to Lisa and husband Dan - played by Sally Lindsay and Daniel Ryan.

In the first instalment, Lisa fears Dan has forgotten their 10th anniversary and fumes when gorgeous boss/friend (Angela Griffin) moves in and goes about dressed like she's doing a cover shoot for Nuts

The cast also includes Liza Tarbuck and Ainsley Howard and you get a vision of the casting director throwing a big net into a pool marked: The Usual Suspects.

So bad, it has to be seen to be believed. Only don't see it, because it is so bad that seeing it would make you angry. So believe us, it's bad, not that you can believe how bad it is without seeing it, unless you've got a really good imagination about bad comedy dramas on TV. And even if you were on an Alistair Cook like streak of imagining terrible drama, you'd probably still not quite manage to think of how bad this is.

It's a battle of the sexes set in suburban Manchester that wants to be Cold Feet meets Desperate Housewives. And watching it will certainly leave the viewer cold and desperate (if you think that's a weak joke, then watch the show and come back to us).

The acting isn't too awful - well, it is but you're aware throughout that it's eminently possible that Angela Griffin, Sally Lindsay, Bobby Ball and Liza Tarbuck could make a decent show (actually, not Tarbuck). The script, however, doesn't just mock their efforts, it takes a show to Edinburgh about their efforts, comes back down and then punches them in the face.

Seriously, it's bad. Believe us.

Ronnie Corbett is back! Not in the outsized armchair, telling shaggy dog stories about his producer, but in series two of the cockle-warming sitcom by Sorry! scribes Ian Davidson and Peter Vincent. The deep-voiced micro-comic plays Sandy Hopper, still hunkering down in the family home until his ancient dog Henry expires. Daughter Ellie wants to get her reluctant son Tyson into an academy school, but Sandy doesn't know who to side with. A blizzard of comic detail peppers the tale of middle-class pretension, and it's a charming vehicle for Corbett. Liza Tarbuck channels the spirit of Pat Coombs as Sandy's lodger Dolores.

While Stephen Fry discourses on persuasive language (in advertising and so on) on Radio 4 here's an agreeable alternative, a brand new series of the sitcom where Ronnie Corbett plays a widower with a dog, a rather tarty lodger (Liza Tarbuck), a comfortable lifestyle - and a daughterwho wishes he'd hurry up and sell his house. Written by Ian Davidson and Peter Vincent who perfectly understand the way Corbett gently inflects a line into a joke. Produced by Liz Anstee for CPL Independent Productions Ltd. Don't worry. It'll be on Radio 4 before long.

The powers of Charlie Brooker's persuasiveness are showcased in all their splendour on So Wrong It's Right (Radio 4, Tuesday), the panel game that celebrates "the wrong side of life". This week, Brooker got Liza Tarbuck to admit to rigging up a homemade device and siphoning off petrol from her dad Jimmy's saloon ("He kept us on quite a tight leash, financially," was her defence). Richard Herring, meanwhile, confessed he once pooed his own pants - and seemed delighted to be telling all. In case you're worried, he was still at primary school at the time.

When the Dog Dies showcased the comedic talents of another old favourite: Ronnie Corbett. Corbett played Sandy Hopper, 65, whose dog Henry barked when he heard "cat", even when used in a word like "catastrophic". "Wuff!" said Henry: which was strange, as Sandy was supposedly writing a blog. As opposed to reading it out.

But then this was an old-fashioned sitcom, written by Ian Davidson and Peter Vincent, who penned Sorry, about the clash between ageing people and the modern world. The ever-engaging Liza Tarbuck was Sandy's sassy lodger, egging him on to bond with his grandson, Tyson. I enjoyed When the Dog Dies more than I expected. Clearly, I'm getting on a bit.

Ronnie Corbett plays Sandy Hopper in this new comedy by Ian Davidson and Peter Vincent. He's 65, a widower, living on in the old family home with his ancient dog Henry. His son and daughter (both married disastrously, according to Sandy) can't wait for him to move so that they can sell the house and divide the spoils. He won't, though. Not until the dog dies, he says. Sally Grace plays (charmingly) his nosy but nice neighbour. Liza Tarbuck (wittily) plays Dolores, his sexy but practical lodger. Jonathan Aris does an impressively monstrous son-in-law.

A well-deserved second series for Charlie Brooker's vitriolic panel show, which vents its spleen on the best and worst of the week's crop of telly. It's essentially a more mainstream format of Brooker's show Screenwipe - although not as mainstream as the BBC's similar effort, As Seen On TV - which was more of a projectile vomit than a TV burp.

YHBW is usually a good place to catch up with all those digital TV oddities that might have escaped your attention while you were watching Countryfile.

On this week's show Liza Tarbuck, David Baddiel and Scottish comedian Kevin Bridges will be trying to score points and attempting to work up the same head of amusing, free-flowing rage that Brooker manages so effortlessly.