Paul Kaye

Ruth Jones's deftly written comedy rarely misses a beat. Tonight comic Paul Kaye makes an appearance as Peschman, a Dutch life coach who uses a unique form of therapy to help Stella (Jones) through her continuing troubles. Elsewhere, Paula (Elizabeth Berrington) thinks about turning her night away from home into a permanent arrangement, while the hapless Alan (Steve Speirs) learns that his big love - the rugby club - is closing down.

Mongrels was one of my favourite shows from last year. Mind you, I'm a sucker for just about anything anthropomorphic. The fact that this and Radio 4 comedy Warhorses of Letters is on at the same time's made me a rather happy man this past week...

This show, often viewed as an animal puppet version of Family Guy, is always enjoyable to a certain degree. It's full of jokes, most of which seem to work, both in the main dialogue and the cutaway scenes. The characters are entertaining, from metrosexual fox Nelson (Rufus Jones) to it-bitch Destiny (Lucy Montgomery), to the f***ing foul-mouthed fox Vince (Paul Kaye).

The second series started with a double bill - which to me felt wrong, primarily because the second episode was a "Horror special" which really should have gone out on Halloween. What on Earth the BBC Three schedulers were thinking of I have no idea.

Still, both episodes were entertaining, with their jokes and musical numbers, especially with a guest appearance from Richard O'Brien as a zombie dog singing a Rocky Horror Show-style love song. The one problem I have with Mongrels is that because it's on BBC Three, it has a very BBC Three idea of what a celebrity is. For example: Clive Anderson - great. Ainsley Harriott - could be worse. Jeff Brazier - never heard of him. Danny Dyer - oh f*** off (as Vince might say).

Still, this is good show on the whole. Certainly one of the better comedies on BBC Three, which probably means it'll be axed...

Mongrel talking: Paul Kaye

An interview with Paul Kaye who plays foul-mouthed Vince in Mongrels.

To be fair, Candy Cabs (BBC1) isn't strictly a comedy. It's a comedy-drama and the mix is, I suppose, a matter of taste. The first episode began at a funeral - Shazza's funeral, according to the pink floral display spelling out her name in the hearse's window - creating a dark and engaging atmosphere that immediately dissipates, not long after they play Tom Jones's Sex Bomb at the cremation.

Shazza, we learn, was the would-be proprietor of Candy Cabs[, until she died in the reduced bread section at Asda, expiring even before the bread did. Her two partners, Jackie and Elaine, decide to go on without her, taking delivery of the new fleet of pink cabs and hiring a load of women drivers. From then on the whole thing becomes terribly insubstantial. Candy Cabs has a company slimming club, which obliges the employees to spend rather more time in their underwear than you find in most cab offices. All the male characters are bastards and idiots who seem to have wandered across from other programmes - especially Paul Kaye as Shazza's cowboy-suited, unscrupulous ex-husband.

A lot of the humour comes from the use of northern turns of phrase that are either meant to strike you as quirkily novel or pleasingly familiar, depending on where you live. Saying: "Look what t'cat's peeled up" when someone walks into a room is not itself a joke, but you might still find it funny if you'd never heard it before. I won't lie - I had to listen to it twice to understand it.

Candy Cabs was, in its own tame and sentimental way, quite enjoyable. If it wasn't often funny, it never raised any real expectations that it would be; and if it was occasionally downright mawkish, well, I have a pretty high tolerance for that sort of thing. There's still a big hole at the centre of it, but I'm prepared to be charitable and assume it's the character of Shazza. We'll have to find a way to struggle on without her.

A group of feisty women friends launch a girls-only taxi service. They are heart-warmingly bluff in the face of adversity yet nurturing and supportive towards each other. And they've no end of trouble with flamin' men. (Insert condescending eye-roll here.) Paul Kaye reprises every role he's had in the last 10 years playing a feckless waster who arrives to cause trouble. In trying to produce chirpy, working-class drama, they've succeeded in patronising all concerned in the way that, say, Linda Green just didn't.

An ensemble comedy-drama about plucky northern women? It's a crazy idea but it might just work.

This breezy new bit of fun set around a Women's-Only taxi company is very much in the same vein as Fat Friends and Cutting It with a dash of Carry On Cabby chucked in for good luck.

And as you'd expect, those taxis - a lovely fleet of hot-pink Citroen Berlingos - take a back seat to the even hotter relationship dramas which are the airport runs of shows like this.

In this opening episode alone we have a funeral, a broken marriage, several panic attacks and some serious flirting.

Candy Cabs' trump card is Joy Joyner with the same hair she has as Tanya in EastEnders but a decent enough accent, that only occasionally seems to get lost somewhere in the services on the way up the M6. And her new love interest is another ex-Eastender, Paul Nicholls playing a council official. As Jackie O'Sullivan, Joyner's the lynch pin of the operation, as she and her hyper-ventilating partner Elaine (Lisa Millett) decide to carry on with the business when their best friend dies just before the big launch.

The script, by Hollyoaks writers Johanne McAndrew and Elliot Hope, ticks over on a mixture of wit, sparkle and memorable one-liners while the cast also boasts Claire Sweeney, Paul Kaye - in leopard-skin speedos - Melanie Hill and Jodie "I'd Do Anything" Prenger who gets to sing the theme tune too.

The BBC has made only three episodes so far, but we reckon there's plenty more mileage to be got out of this.

A comedy drama aimed at the working classes. Just what BBC boss Danny Cohen has been asking for. It's about a female taxi firm and you can pretty much write the rest yourself. Not as funny, loveable or clever as it should be - but that's balanced out by it being incredibly patronising. Jo Joyner reprises her northern bit from No Angels, Paul Kaye repeats every role from the last 10 years and Claire Sweeney reminds you that she's alive. Unfortunately.

It's Carl Gallagher's 21st birthday and, as he strolls through the Chatsworth Estate, all cocky and confident while Muse belts out Feeling Good on the soundtrack, it seems as if nothing can cloud his horizons. He even has time to strip off his shirt to clean a car, to the delight of an audience of two - one male, one female - entranced by his obvious, ahem, charms. But when he becomes involved in shady dealings after he begs Jamie Maguire for a job (watch out for a terrifying turn from Paul Kaye as a seedy, violent club-owner), wonders if he'll live to see his 21st-birthday party. Elsewhere, it's an eye-wateringly filthy episode, even by Shameless's standards, as the half-witted, barely closeted Micky becomes enmeshed in a gay chatline, leaving nothing to his customers' - or our - imaginations.

OK, maybe the timing couldn't have been much worse for a series featuring a friendly urban fox called Nelson but episode two of Mongrels confirms these furry animal puppets are the funniest and most interesting EastEnders on TV right now.

True, there are seriously bad taste moments involving Vince, the foul-mouthed fox voiced by Paul Kaye, devouring his own offspring, but you're still left laughing despite your misgivings. This week, Nelson adopts his only surviving nephew Kieran and discovers that being the runt of the litter can be tough.

Other stand-out moments include Kali (Katy Brand's streetwise pigeon) challenging the existence of God in a wildly inventive musical number. And from Destiny the Afghan, we discover the disgusting ins and outs of romance doggy-style which also results in what must be an all-time career low for Hollyoaks bitch Gemma Bissix.

Mongrels is barking - in the best possible way.

Puppets, sex and Paul Kaye: The birth of Mongrels

When asked to describe Mongrels, as I often am by bemused people at parties who've been told I work 'with puppets' and who are humouring me, I normally say, "It's an adult puppet comedy show."