Mel Giedroyc

Sue Perkins has become ubiquitous at the BBC in the last few years, whether eating peculiar period food or learning to conduct orchestras or telling us about Mrs Dickens/Maria Von Trapp or, as co-host of The Great British Bake-Off, making bad puns about buns. Someone, somewhere, has decided we can't get enough of her. You may have your own feelings about this. Well, here she is again, allegedly going back to her comedy roots with her own sitcom, where she plays Sara, a neurotic vet who's about to turn 40 but hasn't yet managed to tell her parents that she's gay.

Despite being kind of annoying, she has supportive friends (including ever-reliable performers Nicola Walker and Joanna Scanlan) and is able to attract hot ladies like Shelley Conn, who is charmed by Sara's rotten patter and way with extracting barbed wire from dogs' paws.

Around 50 per cent of the show is laboured animal slapstick - there is a dead cat which is lugged around to decreasing effect - and the other half is meant to be touching, as Sara wrestles with her inadequacies and her friends urge her to finally come out to her folks. It's an awkward mix. The comedy just isn't that funny and the sentiment isn't that interesting. At times I felt a bit of second-hand embarrassment and - worst of all - the show reminded me of two grim indulgent sitcoms of years past: Baddiel's Syndrome, in which David Baddiel and his mates failed miserably at doing a Seinfeld, and Rhona, in which Rhona Cameron and her mates (including Perkins' double act and Bake-Off partner Mel Giedroyc) failed at doing an Ellen. What they all have in common is that their stars aren't actually actors but stand-ups, and that the other two only lasted one series. There's a lesson there.

Mel Giedroyc takes a break from cake to reveal her personal nightmares - including pretentious types who pronounce spaghetti with the full Italian accent - in the hope that Frank Skinner will consign them to the oblivion of Room 101. But there's tough competition from her fellow guests: actor Hugh Dennis is lobbying for Las Vegas to be wiped from the face of the earth, while Cilla Black has a lorra lorra laffs trying to trash modern technology. And knickers.

There often comes an awkward moment when the guests outline their pet hates and you wonder if the audience will applaud at the end of the pitch. Sometimes they don't, and it leaves the celeb stranded, because the line between righteous yes-we-all-hate-that anger and ranting about minutiae is a hazy one.

Luckily, host Frank Skinner usually rides to the rescue with a well-observed quip. Tonight, he tops Mel Giedroyc's gripe about people who overpronounce Italian words in restaurants ("spag-HAY-tee") by observing that if you tried the same in a Chinese restaurant, it would be dreadful. Meanwhile, Hugh Dennis hates leaving cards, and Cilla Black believes there's a conspiracy surrounding knickers.

All the obvious targets were shunted off into the vault of shame a long time ago, so the attraction of Room 101 these days is the window that it gives into the bizarre minds of celebrities.

Without a script, and without anything to plug, what are they really thinking? This week it's showbiz legend Cilla Black who provides some of the most unexpected moments, as ­comedian Frank Skinner invites his guests to nominate their pet hates concerning people and modern life, plus their wild card entry.

"When I used to watch you on TV I used to wonder what we'd talk about if we ever met," Frank admits. "I never expected this." His other guests, Outnumbered star Hugh Dennis and Great British Bake Off presenter Mel Giedroyc, can only stare in wonder as Cilla explains her gripe with one particular gadget.

But Frank has also got an old clip of Cilla that's odder than the rest of the show put together.

Frank Skinner seems uncharacteristically star-struck at having Cilla Black on the show, perhaps because so many of his guests have been distinctly underwhelming (even boring) so far this series. Cilla's professional sparkle certainly jollies along some fairly morose contributions from comedian Hugh Dennis and TV presenter Mel Giedroyc as they discuss their competitive dislikes of, among other things, pompous celebrities, office leaving cards, Las Vegas and knickers.

Mel Giedroyc - letter to my younger self

Mel Giedroyc, 44, on meeting comedy partner Sue, The Great British Bake Off, and the 'incredible moment' that changed her life.

Interview: Mel Giedroyc, comedian and broadcaster

'When I didn't get into drama school, I spent three days in bed with a bottle of whisky'

While some panel shows are having trouble finding their footing, Would I Lie To You? just seems to keep going from strength to strength.

Rob Brydon, David Mitchell and Lee Mack seem to make a perfect team. There's so many angles for them to play with: Mitchell's poshness verses Mack's working class background; Mitchell's southerness and Mack's northerness; Mitchell and Mack's Englishness verses Brydon's Welshness, and so on.

There is one significant change to this new series, however, that being the show is now on before the watershed. This, for me, is a worry. You may remember that this happened to QI when it moved to BBC One, which ended up as a failure and resulted in QI moving back...

However, it would seem that it's survived this changed. The show seems to be just as funny as ever, especially the bit when Mack trying to claim that his ex-girlfriend's names spell out the world "Bermuda". The guests, Alexander Armstrong, Mel Giedroyc, Alex Jones and Chris Tarrant, provided much amusement too.

For those unaware, Sorry, I've Got No Head is a sketch show broadcast on the CBBC Channel.

Despite this being a children's show, it's surprising in many ways. For starters, there is quite a lot of good comic talent involved. Amongst those starring in the show include Marek Larwood, Justin Edwards, James Bachman, Marcus Brigstocke, Mel Giedroyc, Nick Mohammed, David Armand and Graham Norton in a voice-over.

The sketches include Jasmine and Prudith, a pair of eccentric posh women who believe everything costs a thousand pounds; Ross the schoolboy from the Outer Hebrides whose school has been badly damaged in a storm and is thus he is the only one who attends; the easily-scared Fearless Vikings; and The Witchfinder General who accuses anyone of being a witch if he doesn't get his own way.

Another interesting thing about Sorry, I've Got No Head is that it has no laughter track. Most TV sketch shows tend to have one, and you would expect a children's sketch show to do so as well, but this doesn't.

In a way the show treats the audience a bit more like adults than many other sketch comedies. The laughter track provokes you into laughing, which might explain why shows such as That Mitchell and Webb Look and The Armstrong and Miller Show have them, to encourage the viewers to laugh along and keep watching. Sorry, I've Got No Head doesn't see the need for one. Perhaps it's because this show is less of a risk as it's on a digital channel for children.

Sorry, I've Got No Head is quite a diverting show, which in its own way is entertaining for people of all ages. And if you're bit a embarrassed about watching it with other people, you can always look at it on the iPlayer as if it were a guilty pleasure.

The Thick Of It's Chris Addison and Mel and Sue's Mel Giedroyc join Dave Gorman tonight in judging his audience's often superb ideas to improve modern life. Suggestions in this episode include a hand-shaking machine, the prototype of which is quite impressive, an ingenious idea to liven up Olympic coverage and a de-wedging device for buttocks prone to munching cloth. Anything that brings the spirit of Heath Robinson to television is a good thing.