Lucy Montgomery

Lucy Montgomery is funny. She creates characters you'll recognise, in situations that edge gradually into the surreal. Persist through the first sketch if you find it a bit shouty. Her posh babysitters, Maisie and Daisy, babbling on in their own language about vampires and the Jonas Brothers, are marvellous. The pace is fast, so if you don't like the jilted bride there'll be another person along directly. Her final character, a Broadway entertainer with a gift for picking the wrong husband, is a shining gem of observational malice.

Having built his profile on Radio 4 and TV panel shows, Stephen K Amos gets his own show. Considering that Amos is essentially from leftfield, this should be a good thing. Unfortunately, the edgier side of Amos's work seems largely absent here. Instead, we're offered a mix of standup and sketches that occasionally takes flight - notably when Frank the fashion-conscious security guard vets the audience - but too often seems safe and warm. Guest turns come from the laconic Tom Allen and Lucy Montgomery's Liza-Minnelli-gone-to-seed persona, cabaret singer Candy Karmel.

Puppets, it would seem, can get away with pretty much anything. Under normal circumstances all comic references to Anne Frank are subject to a blanket prohibition, but Mongrels extracted guilty laughs by suggesting that it was an overzealous game of Yahtzee, not Dutch collaborators, that gave away her whereabouts to the Nazis.

Mongrels features a menagerie of endearing fluffy animals, with occasional support from a passing live actor, the star of which is a sensitive, confrontation-phobic, urbane urban fox called Nelson. Other characters include a snooty Afghan Hound bitch, a kleptomaniac pigeon, a latino cat and several rats. Episode one opened with a houseful of cats dining on the rotting corpse of their elderly owner, moved swiftly on to embrace the twin themes of defecation and castration, paused briefly for a musical number extolling the virtues of prejudice, before climaxing in a Saw style torture scene involving the use of microwave ovens.

Somewhere in the frantic mix sweet natured Nelson found time to embark upon a doomed romance with a chicken, prompting several oddly touching moments, before the show, and the fox, reverted to their true 'red in tooth and claw' natures.

Mongrels sets out to be offensive, but does so with an irresistible combination of wit, imagination and gleeful enthusiasm. I laughed out loud several times, I sniggered childishly throughout and on at least one occasion I felt sick, which counts as a ringing endorsement.

To borrow a gruesome Americanism, the show features the "vocal talents" of Lucy Montgomery, Dan Tetsell, Rufus Jones and Katy Brand, all of whom sounded as though they were having more fun than is decent.

New comedy about a group of urban animal puppets voiced by Katy Brand, Lucy Montgomery, Dan Tetsell and Rufus Jones. It calls to mind Top Cat and Basil Brush but with added adult content. Tonight, a fox goes on an internet date with a chicken and they encounter a familiar problem on a boating lake. Meanwhile, our feline hero goes in search of a new owner when his elderly one drops dead and gets partially eaten by her other cats. The bad taste stuff is nicely judged and the jokes are good - it might just have furry little legs.

Gary Bellamy takes the nation's spiritual pulse at a festival, in an episode that may revive memories of 1970s new-age expos such as the Mind, Body and Spirit exhibition. Great to see the wonderful Felix Dexter again in various roles, while highlights include Robert Popper repping for the "Tarvu" faith ("SO easy to join"); Rosie Cavaliero as a Bellamy's Babe; and Lucy Montgomery as a Doctor of Dreams: "A lot of the other stalls are twaddle. I've got a BSc." Brilliantly funny.

Thank goodness for Bellamy's People and its 8-episode-instead-of-6-episode season! Pure character comedy, nothing on telly makes me giggle quite so much as this at the moment, and I'm not sure it's getting the recognition it deserves. A conversation about the show recently had me fighting with myself over which is my favourite character (white van man? old Humphrey Milner who's right about everything? the "reformed" criminal? every one Felix Dexter plays?) and which is my favourite performer (Lucy Montgomery is rather special, it has to be said). It's nothing ground-breaking, and not everything works, but it's impeccably performed, and it has a lovely tone about it.

It's not The Fast Show and nor does it try to be, but this new series, a spin-off from Radio 4's award-winning spoof phone-in Down The Line, finds Paul Whitehouse and Charlie Higson back together on TV for the first time in a decade, with their old mucker Simon Day also popping up in some of the sketches.

The Bellamy of the title is radio host Gary (Rhys Thomas), who sets off on a trip around the UK, encountering all kinds of bizarre, eccentric characters - many of whom, of course, look naggingly familiar.

They include a celebrity criminal, a 23-stone bed-ridden man, and a pair of posh sisters with decidedly dubious political views. Other top comic talents putting in an appearance include Lucy Montgomery, Rosie Cavaliero and Felix Dexter.

Paul Whitehouse and Charlie Higson have reunited for a new comedy about life in modern Britain - and this is one TV comeback I'm delighted to see.

Self-regarding Gary Bellamy (Star Stories' Rhys Thomas) is an award-winning journalist with an award-winning radio show. Now he's been released from his cosy studio and given a TV series in which he'll travel across the country to meet his listeners and find out what makes them tick.

Although headed by stalwarts of The Fast Show, the humour is more in the vein of People Like Us, that genius series featuring the now disgraced Chris Langham. It spoofs genuine "celebrity meets the public" shows brilliantly, using ridiculous links such as: "Cirencester in Gloucestershire couldn't be more different from Harlesden".

The characters Gary meets are wonderfully eccentric, with some lovely performances by the likes of Simon Day, Lucy Montgomery and Felix Dexter. And, of course Charlie and Paul - although I can't help but watch Paul's performances and be reminded of his recent spate of insurance ads.

Characters range from a 23-stone man who lives in his bed to a deluded community leader who can't quite tell Gary what a community leader does. There's the screechy Trisha Webb, who runs Gary's 'Bellamy's Babes' fan club, and lovely old boy Humphrey Milner, a self-confessed silver surfer. But my favourites are a pair of posh old biddies, who made me laugh so suddenly and hard I almost snorted tea out of my nose.

A four part series by comedian Zaltzman (with a little help from Rory Bremner, Bridget Christie, Lucy Montgomery and Kim Wall) examining the first 10 years of the millennium. The title is itself a joke, punning on Radio 4's predeliction for ultralong series (e.g., This Sceptered Isle). At least, I hope it's a joke...