Mark Heap

Radio Times review

The central character of Heading Out was Sara, a 40-year-old vet, afraid of commitment and very afraid of telling her parents she is gay. Except it wasn't Sara up there, it was Sue Perkins. The wry rhythms, the crafted wit tempered by stuttering diffidence, the coy friendliness twinkling through that protective fringe: Sue Perkins.

So you might say, well, that doesn't work. We don't believe it's Sara. Unlike Grandma's House or Seinfeld or Ellen, the star isn't playing someone with their own name. Perkins isn't meant to be herself, but she inescapably is because we know her too well, in a way most actors cannily never allow.

The solution, in theory: cast someone else. But this wasn't an option, partly because Sara was totally Perkins in script as well as performance, but also because such a thin alter ego let our affection transfer easily. You like Sue Perkins? (Yes.) Then you'll like her playing a woman who looks and sounds the same.

Lose her presence and you'd lose the show's considerable charm, since the supporting cast were mostly struggling as caricatured oddballs: Dominic Coleman as a neat freak, Joanna Scanlan as a bellowy, hockey-sticks life coach hired by Sara's friends to help her come out fully, Mark Heap very Mark Heapy in a bit part as an officious pet-crematorium manager.

Nothing felt real, particularly the digression when Sara played netball and the opposition performed a fearsome dance routine before the game. "It seems to be some sort of inner-city, asthmatic Haka," said Sara, exactly as Perkins would in a documentary or panel show.

The Sara/Sue thing can't sustain Heading Out for long. Sara needs to stand on her own, even if it's through Perkins revealing parts of her own character that the fans haven't seen before, and the dialogue needs to sound a lot less like the carefully written words of a presenter. So it was pleasing to see a glint of this in episode one, when Sara met a potential love interest (Shelley Conn) in the park and ineptly chatted her up.

Viewers nervous about this being a "lesbian sitcom" were probably waiting for one of them to announce that they were gay, but nobody needed to because the writing and acting were nuanced and true. Sara and Sue were both out of their comfort zone - and rising to the challenge.

Sue Perkins has been conspicuously absent from recent British cake bakes.

Now we know why - she's been busy writing and starring in this vet-based sitcom about the anxieties of 39-year-old gay vet Sara trying and failing to come out to her parents.

After a dodgy start - cat lovers beware - things perk up when Perkins's priceless comedy pals, including Dominic Coleman, Joanna Scanlan and Mark Heap, provide light relief from Sara's perplexing love life.

Comedian, Maestro winner, Celebrity Big Brother housemate, Great British Bake Off presenter and possible future Doctor Who, Sue Perkins has somehow managed to neglect writing and starring in her very own sitcom until now.

Here she plays Sara, a vet who's too afraid to tell her parents she's gay. But as her 40th birthday approaches, Sara's loyal band of friends, which includes Nicola Walker from Spooks, have a plan to give her the courage to tell her folks.

Perhaps they could show them the spread from Tatler magazine that hailed Sue as one of Britain's coolest lesbians.

Some exciting guests are lined up for the series including Dawn French and Sue's comedy partner Mel Giedroyc. Tonight the fabulous Mark Heap drops in.

Sue Perkins has become one of the faces of BBC Two in recent years, presenting all maner of food and pop-historical programming. Now she returns to her comic roots in this self-written sitcom, starring as Sara, a successful female vet about to turn 40 - but still frightened to tell her parents (Jeff Rawle and Harriet Walter) that she's gay. Her motley gang of friends set an ultimatum: if Sara fails to reveal her sexuality within six weeks, they will. To make matters even more chaotic, they arrange for her to attend a series of sessions with an eccentric life coach.

In her acting debut, Perkins is likeably beleaguered and sardonic, while there's a strong supporting cast of Nicola Walker (Spooks, Last Tango in Halifax), Dominic Coleman (Miranda), Shelley Conn (Mistresses) and Joanna Scanlan (The Thick of It, Getting On) - not to mention lots of four-legged extras. Guest stars also pop up throughout the six-part run, including June Brown, Steve Pemberton, Mark Heap, Dawn French and Perkins's Great British Bake Off co-host and original comedy partner Mel Giedroyc[/o]. Pitched somewhere between the slapstick Miranda and the sardonic Grandma's House, it's a highly promising, enjoyably daft opener.

The Goodmans' reservations about celebrating a Christian holiday are quickly cast aside, but the tree is a step too far for Jackie (Tamsin Greig). Jonny is hungover, making brother Adam even more of an irritant, and weird neighbour Jim (Mark Heap) is angling for a spot at the table. His plans are initially scuppered after his german shepherd molests Martin's mother's ailing dog in the garden. But there's a lovely moment of festive togetherness from an unexpected source.

Mark Heap interview

Mark Heap talks about his guest appearance in the Outnumbered Christmas special.

The second series of this sitcom about the lives of the hapless Goodman family goes out with a bang for oddball neighbour Jim (Mark Heap), who pops round in his weasely way and ends up being electrocuted. There's a rather cute mouse in the tale, an unexpected and original sight gag, lots of slapstick and a nicely understated script, all of which make it as enjoyable as ever. A lot of the charm lies in the warmth of the family and their united front - nicely illustrated in tight midshots of the group - against Jim, and that's to the fore tonight: the latter even induces the odd moment of pathos to counteract the idiocy that occasionally borders on irritating. Charming rather than laugh-out-loud, but warmly winning in a way that UK comedy excels at.

Hello bambinos! The most underrated show on TV and also quite probably the funniest. Great performances all round, but (topless) Paul Ritter and Mark Heap steal the show every week.

The second series of this sitcom has intimations of a soap; despite being set in the world of espionage, this takes a back seat to day-to-day romantic and family intrigues. A strong cast is headed by Darren Boyd as Tim, whose precocious son Marcus tonight makes his aggressive bid to become school president. Mark Heap is the hapless headmaster, Miles Jupp plays the appalling Owen and Robert Lindsay also features, looking like Jon Culshaw impersonating Alan Sugar. A running joke involving a hooded interrogee is the highlight of this week's silliness.

Channel 4 has made the odd decision to move Friday Night Dinner from Friday nights (um, when all Jewish people have dinner?) to Sunday evenings. Robert Popper's family sitcom is back for another six episodes, which is incredible given how it barely managed to justify six last year. The best sitcoms impose restrictions on the characters, so I'm not against FND's narrow concept in principle (that two brothers return to their eccentric parent's home every Friday for a family meal), but I do have to wonder if the show might have been improved by broadening the idea slightly. There are only so many squabbles, fraternal fights/pranks, and visits from the weird next-door neighbour (Mark Heap) I can take before my brain itches for something more diverse. Similarly to Cuckoo, it's the frothy performances that keep you engaged-particularly Tamsin Greig as bemused mum Jackie - and the premiere at least ended on a brilliant visual involving a beloved stuffed rabbit and a lawn mower. I just wish FND had a concept that suited the dynamism of Popper's imagination, because there's something about it that has me screaming for the self-imposed boundaries to be lifted.