Mathew Horne

Mathew Horne: 'Critics went too far'

Mathew Horne has admitted that he was "hurt" by the backlash he received in the press earlier this year.

James Corden and Mathew Horne film is turkey of 09

Comedy duo Mathew Horne and James Corden's Lesbian Vampire Killers film has been voted 2009's biggest flop.

There's a certain kind of comedy snob who, if you admit to loving slapstick, looks pityingly at you as if you'd said lollipops were your favourite food. But think of the great sitcom moments and they're physical: Del Boy falling through that bar, Basil Fawlty thrashing his car with a branch, David Brent's dance... And that's before you get to the surrealism of, say, Monty Python's fish-slapping. So a big ker-tish on the cymbals to this one-off doc devoted to "the universal language of comedy". DVDs weren't available as we went to press, but we're promised a feast of clips, from Buster Keaton's collapsing house onwards, as well as sage comments from the likes of Vic Reeves, Ben Miller and Gavin & Stacey's Mathew Horne. And a great, clanging frying pan in the face for anyone who says it's childish.

As Stacey (Joanna Page) frets over her efforts to get pregnant, Gavin (Mathew Horne) plays host to his Essex chums on a boys' night out in Cardiff, in the sublime comedy series about the eponymous Anglo-Welsh couple. Uncle Bryn (the incomparable Rob Brydon) turns his house into a "bachelors' paradise" for Gavin's friends, and grows dizzy with excitement at being surrounded by a whole gang of Essex scamps. "I feel like Fagin," he quivers.

All the same, I was interested to see whether the gentle BBC series, which returned last week for a third and final series, would have shed a little fairy dust in the aftermath of the lamentable solo efforts of James Corden and Mathew Horne. It didn't take long, however, to be reminded that neither actor has ever been a main draw among the superlative cast (though credit goes to Corden as co-writer). The action has shifted to Barry Island, which will please fans of Ruth Jones's brilliantly deadpan Nessa and Rob Brydon's Uncle Bryn - a caricature, but an excellent one.

The christening of Nessa and Smithy's son provides the excuse to lure the Essex contingent over the border, and the seeds are planted early for what promises to be a warm and fuzzy finale. No surprises perhaps, but for the home straight, I'm perfectly happy with more of the same.

Their sketch show was an obnoxious, homophobic mess, so it's probably wise that Mathew Horne and James Corden have returned in the show that first made them popular, Gavin & Stacey. The first episode of this final series was like a warm bath: slightly eccentric characters, love and empathy bubbling around the intertwined lives of three families. Gavin has moved to Wales to work and live with Stacey and was bored. His first day at work was littered with grating, if sweet, interventions - balloons, phone messages, a packed lunch from Rob Brydon's Uncle Bryn - which delighted his new, and yes kooky, colleagues.

You can see why Gavin & Stacey is universally loved: the dialogue is carefully colloquial, everyone has their turn, it affirms family and friendship, has a dark edge - but for this viewer there is a sense of old tricks being recycled. Everyone's quirks ("What's occurrin'?") are so well-worn they have lost their magic.

The only distinctive performances are Ruth Jones's monotone Nessa, with baby (who is with her though concealed at all times) and the marvellous, foul-mouthed Doris/Dor (Margaret John) who stuck two fingers up at the expectation that she'd make salad for the christening party. You should root for Corden's Smithy, father of Nessa's baby and trying to find a role for himself now his best friend has moved away and the mother of his child is with a new partner, but he's supremely irritating and unfunny.

Where Little Britain produced bizarre, gross-out comedy, Gavin & Stacey is a very traditional sitcom. It works in the manner of Dad's Army or Birds of a Feather - the eponymous leads, played by Mathew Horne and Joanna Page, provide a focus in front of a background populated by slightly grotesque caricatures, such as Rob Brydon's camp and simple-minded Uncle Bryn. Now for this third and final series, James Corden's Smithy is still living in Essex while Gavin (his best friend) and Stacey (Gavin's wife) have moved to Stacey's home town of Barry Island in South Wales. As the familiar characters reunite for the christening of Smithy and Nessa's son Neil, viewers who are new to the series (which has previously won two Baftas) may find that this opening instalment is not as immediately likeable or accessible as they might wish. Who, after all, would choose to spend time in the company of Gavin's shouty mother Pam (Alison Steadman) or Stacey's offensive best friend Nessa (Corden's co-writer Ruth Jones)? But as this first episode continues (next week's second is much funnier), it becomes obvious that these weirdly dysfunctional families makes a kind of sense - and that their ludicrous travails are no more ludicrous than most family's. So it's all very sweet, even if there's none of the innovation or edginess you'd find in The Office or The Thick of It.

The eagerly-awaited Series Three finally materialises and it doesn't disappoint. It's as warmly affectionate as ever and there are lots of big life changes in the offing to keep it fresh as everyone descends on Barry tonight for the christening of Neil the baby.

As we rejoin the nation's favourite extended family, Nessa (the incomparable Ruth Jones) is dealing with motherhood with her usual deadpan aplomb. And now that she's engaged to Dave Coaches, poor old Smithy (Neil the baby's father, just in case series two somehow passed you by) feels increasingly side-lined. Most of all, Smithy is absolutely bereft that his best mate Gavin has left Essex and has moved to Wales to keep Stacey happy.

It's Gavin's very first day in his new job, and his family and friends certainly don't hold back in showing their support. Wales though is turning out to be rather more Welsh than he was bargaining on. In contrast to Mathew Horne and James Corden's disappointing sketch show adventure, every tiny little domestic nuance and character foible is mined here for maximum comedy effect. And even though there's a massive turnout of characters tonight, we still care about every single one of them.

What is weird is seeing Larry Lamb switch from villainous Archie Mitchell on EastEnders to playing Gavin's laid-back dad Mick Shipman.

Nessa's neighbour Doris, who's on salad duty, is a star and there's another belter of a song from Bryn. When he describes a christening as being like an opera, he's not kidding.

As the Asbo adolescents grapple with their superpowers of varying usefulness (invisibility, mindreading... making people bald), the boredom of sorting donated clothes for Africa is soon forgotten when the two bodies they buried look set to be unearthed by construction workers. If The Breakfast Club were thrown in a blender with Being Human, you might end up with Misfits. It's bleak and edgy, with the mischief and musical nous of Skins, and its peppy cast are, you feel, destined for bigger things, especially Mathew Horne-alike Iwan Rheon.

Mathew Horne talks about criticism

Mat says: "By our own admission, we were getting a bit overexposed. But all the same, the bad press we were getting was agony. There was nothing we could do but watch it unfold."