Peter Capaldi

An equalities minister who has voted against racial and sexual equality rights. Chuckle. A health secretary who supports homeopathy. Ha! It's good, this politics malarkey, isn't it? A right giggle. Some might think it beyond parody. But thankfully not The Thick of It crew, who, three years after its last series, returned last night with an eagerly awaited fourth to take on the calamity coalition.

First, the good. In fact, the excellent. Roger Allam as the Tory MP Peter Mannion, new head of Dosac - the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship - fills the role perfectly. The floppy hair, the floundering as he tried to explain a "networked nation" that was beyond him, the barely concealed contempt for those he works with ("I'm bored of this," he said, walking out of a meeting with his junior minister. "I'm going for a Twix") and those he works for. ("I hate schoolchildren. They don't even have the vote. Might as well talk to fucking geese.")

Then there's the spin doctor Stewart Pearson, a lighter touch than attack dog Malcolm Tucker, all herbal teas, brainstorming and, in the words of Mannion aide Phil Smith, provider of "seven years of ear piss".

That Tories and Lib Dems might not get on behind closed doors has been the subject of satire ever since this bastard child of Westminster was conceived in May 2010, but it was moved on here to good effect. It reveals the flaws in the central characters and allows for the best line of the night, uttered by Ben Willbond as Lib Dem No 2 Adam Kenyon. "Landmark day," he said as Mannion finally destroyed the launch of the Liberals' "silicon playgrounds". "We bring in an idea, you like it, you nick it, you put two bullets in the back of its head. Snuff politics: you've got to laugh." And you did, you really did.

Yet not everything was quite so sparkling. Punchlines were occasionally heavy-handed and the ranting felt sometimes forced. Consider Lib Dem junior minister Fergus Williams's tirade at punchbag press officer Terri Coverley: "Now you like musicals. Well this is 'Tonight' from West Side Story, and I'm going to bring the bloody house down, so you can't rain on my parade, Funny Girl." Too contrived. Maybe that was the point, but it made you pine for the eloquent misanthropy of Peter Capaldi's expletive-fuelled Tucker. Luckily, he's back in episode two...

On balance the BBC probably picked the worst week to launch the new series of The Thick Of It. Because no matter how funny the opener was it could never have been as amusing as the fallout from David Cameron's Cabinet reshuffle.

Of course, you may question how anything in life could possibly be funnier than Peter Capaldi's potty-mouthed spin doctor Malcolm Tucker - and you'd be right. But Tucker wasn't in it. And neither was Rebecca Front's Nicola Murray, his most recent sparring partner.

Still, as a scene-setter for the new Coalition era it did manage some laugh-out-loud moments. And the return of Roger Allam's gloriously withering Minister Peter Mannion was most welcome.

Although, not as welcome as the trailer for next Saturday's episode. Because Tucker is back. Murray is back. And the hair of Chris Addison's oily Ollie is insipidly slicked back. Happy (expletive deleted) days, as Tucker might say.

Armando Iannucci's political satire returns for its fourth series - the first since Labour was ousted from government - and the good news is that it's still brilliant. The MPs, advisers and civil servants of the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship are now working for a coalition government yet, unsurprisingly, are no more effective at their jobs. The department has created a new digital project aimed at teenagers but spin doctor Stewart Pearson (Vincent Franklin) decides that it should be launched by the Secretary of State (Roger Allam) - a man who has not only had no involvement in its development but is also digitally illiterate. Sadly it's a Peter Capaldi-free episode but he returns next week.

Capaldi: Leveson will influence new Thick of It

Peter Capaldi, who stars in The Thick of It, says he stays away from politicians so that he can remain impartial as an actor.

I tried to like Dirk Gently (BBC Four) but it was hard to find the humour. As with the spoof show Cricklewood Greats, which came and went a few weeks ago leaving a sense that even Peter Capaldi can sometimes waste his time, a great deal of care and attention didn't add up to a single gag. It could be that, as the years pass, one falls out of love with the spoof form itself; perhaps because everything has been done. On one of the off-world channels last week I got another chance to see the movie Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid and it was as impressive as ever. It had infinite resources from the film archive and they were deployed with tact and cunning. But even then, I didn't laugh much.

For any show that tries to do the same sort of thing but with less wit I can barely summon up enough interest to see it through. The antipathy has got something to do with the spoof form itself. It is always as if the spoofers had spent years getting ready, paying the wrong kind of attention; they are like practical jokers, forever looking for a way in. On the other hand, The Comic Strip bunch a few years back did some good stuff, and a spoof sequence was always the highlight of the French and Saunders shows. When I recall those two in their spoof mode, however, I also recall that The Two Ronnies were only ever disastrously dull in their Piggy Malone number.

Peter Capaldi: Bullies made my teenage years hell

Actor Peter Capaldi has revealed how school bullies made his life hell.

Cricklewood Greats, BBC Four, review

Isabel Mohan reviews Cricklewood Greats, The Thick of It's Peter Capaldi's spoof documentary on BBC Four.

I didn't do a lot of laughing during Peter Capaldi's Cricklewood Greats (BBC4, Sunday). This may be because this kind of spoof documentary is rarely funny. Or because what is being sent up here - a particularly kind of reverential documentary - isn't enough of a phenomenon for most people to merit the ridicule. Or because acting (at which Capaldi is obviously brilliant) and writing are very different skills. Or a combination of all of the above. But I'm afraid it left me cold.

Cricklewood Greats review: super spoof

Cricklewood Greats, a mockumentary which Peter Capaldi wrote, directed and presented, is a strange beast and unlike most comedies, gets stronger as it goes on. Excellent stuff.

I love a spoof documentary, me. Not, you understand, of the nonsensical Life's Too Short variety, but rather those spot-on parodies of pop culture epochs such as Eric Idle's magnificent Beatles spoof, The Rutles: All You Need Is Cash, and Harry Enfield and Paul Whitehouse's criminally underrated Smashie and Nicey: End of an Era.

As well as being packed with exquisite gags, those mock-docs worked so beautifully because of their loving attention to detail, proving that the very best parodies are made by those who know their subject inside out. And while Peter Capaldi's the Cricklewood Greats doesn't quite reach such giddy heights, it certainly delivers in terms of affectionate irreverence and the care with which it's made.

Charting the wavering fortunes of a fictional British film studio - think Ealing by way of Hammer, and all stops in between - it functions not only as an impressively realised parody of the average BBC 4 entertainment documentary, but also of those insight-free films in which a celebrity hijacks an interesting subject in pursuit of their own meaningless "personal journey."

Written in conjunction with his The Thick Of It cohort Tony Roche - who also penned BBC 4's splendid Python biopic, Holy Flying Circus - Capaldi directs and also stars as himself, paying overly-reverential tribute to the ghosts of the Cricklewood dream factory, including thinly disguised versions of Gracie Fields, Peter Cushing and Kenneth Williams (the acutely observed pastiches of his withering diary entries are a particular highlight).

No "tears behind the laughter" cliché is left unturned in this modest treat for connoisseurs of archive film and television, which, although merely amusing rather than hilarious, is still witty and charming and thoroughly commendable.