Mathew Horne

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.

Horne and Corden sketch show 'put on hold'

BBC Three's Horne and Corden sketch show has been put on hold but is not being permanently axed, a spokeswoman has said.

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."

'Turkey' is too noble a word for a cinematic abomination that should have slunk straight to DVD, or ideally, straight to bin. Now more overexposed than Lindsay Lohan's lady parts, James Corden and Mathew Horne take time out from being unfunny on TV to do the same in this gaggingly desperateto-be-a-cult horror/comedy. Shot in digital soft-focus à la 300, it's basically a tribute (in the sense of lazy, utterly irony-free rip-off) to ye olde Hammer Horror movies, that sees heart-broken Jimmy (Horne) and his loveable fat friend Fletch (Corden) go hiking to a remote village, only to stumble across a coven of gay girl vamps. Boasting bare boobies galore, this might appeal to Nuts readers (if they're drunk), while women viewers will be universally repelled by the horrific levels of female-fear-and-loathing. Shaun Of The Dead this most certainly ain't - in fact, it makes Ant and Dec's feeble sci-fi effort Alien Autopsy a masterpiece to rival Aliens.

Not for Kevin Bishop the diplomatic approach: his sketch show puts the boot into the foibles of the entertainment industry he's intrinsically a part of. Impersonations - a staple of Bishop's comedy - are pretty thin fare on their own, but this rapid-fire sketch show also hits some worthy targets. In tonight's show, we are shown the tragedy of Derren Brown's cab-driving brother, Darren, see Hugh Laurie's out-takes from House, and - most enjoyably - observe TV comedy's boom-and-bust duo James Corden and Mathew Horne in a remake of On the Buses.