Rik Mayall

Previously The Inbetweeners' grouchy headteacher, Greg Davies stars as Dan, a teacher capable of rivalling Jay, Neil et al for immaturity. Listlessly plodding through a life that has left him leeching off his parents and lumbered with dysfunctional friend Jo (Roisin Conaty), Dan spends much of this opener determined to win back his girlfriend by getting a mortgage, or at least a second pair of trousers. A pretty by-the-books start, but if we get more of Dan's eccentric dad (Rik Mayall), it's one to keep an eye on.

Greg Davies brings his gift for the deranged to a new sitcom that is so loaded with childish eccentricity it practically bludgeons us into laughter. Davies is the six-foot-eight comedian who made a name for himself as a comic actor in The Inbetweeners and Cuckoo. There he played exasperated adults; here he plays maddening man-child Dan, a hopeless oaf who in the opening scene fantasises about designing a fart-powered hovercraft while his girlfriend points out he still hasn't replaced their broken light bulb.

When she finally decides to leave him, Dan is driven to new lows, not helped by losing his trousers and being attacked by his dad (Rik Mayall) in a bear outfit. None of this is subtly nuanced or anything, but there are real, stupid laughs, not least at the sight of Dan driving round in an old banger with his seat so far back he has his arm out of the rear window.

Greg Davies's latest venture into sitcomland is comedy writ large, from the initial fart joke, to a pair of lost trousers and some slapstick scenes that are so preposterous as to be surreal.

The premise is a tried and tested traditional one - newly dumped, middle-aged teacher (Davies) lives in a flat attached to the house of his mum and dad (Rik Mayall, in a near-perfect piece of casting, if you overlook the fact that Davies and Mayall are roughly the same age), and is surrounded by idiosyncratic/idiotic 'fucking mental' friends who do things such as sing him out of bouts of angst under the disapproving gaze of a battleaxe café proprietor.

It's touches such as these - and Davies's utterly silly but joyous classroom scenes, and lines such as 'He's a good boy. He's normal. He's not into your rubber shorts, your plastic fists, your glory holes,' delivered by the local tailor discussing his work experience schoolboy - that could have you warming to both Davies and the series, particularly if you like puerile, juvenile, violent comedy. Ageing The Young Ones fans will love it.

Greg Davies: how to hire your hero

Routinely described as 'a fat Rik Mayall', comedian-actor Greg Davies explains how he got his doppelgänger-hero into his new show - sitcom Man Down.

Silly is something comedy shies away from now. If it's not a mockumentary, it's sarcastic verging on outright nastiness. Silly is a precious aspect to comedy, one that should be cherished and encouraged. This is certainly one of the silliest comedies for some time and what's even more endearing is that it's a silly sitcom, which is as rare as an open letter not being sent to Miley Cyrus. The extremely tall Greg Davies channels his time as a drama teacher (one in real life, not as Mr Gilbert in The Inbetweeners) to play a useless drama teacher who still hasn't grown up, which leads to generous servings of his bare legs and crotch. In a terrific piece of casting, Rik Mayall - someone Greg is routinely described as being a tall version of - plays his near-sadistic father, who delights in elaborate practical jokes. After the first episode, you'll check your back seat first before you climb into your car...

The comedy crime series Jonathan Creek returns for its first outing since 2010 and it's still as baffling as ever, although there have been a few changes...

The main change is that Creek (Alan Davies) has left the world of magic and his windmill home for an ordinary working life in an office, having married a lady called Polly (Sarah Alexander). While Polly goes away on a business trip, however, his sidekick Joey Ross (Sheridan Smith) tells Jonathan about a murder case involving an old friend's vanishing corpse in a locked room. Creek decides to dust off his duffle coat to take on the case - one that involves an old acquaintance of his: overbearing cop D.I. Gideon Pryke (Rik Mayall).

This episode had its ups and downs. I did feel myself giving a bit of a cheer when I saw Creek going through his wardrobe and pulling out his trademark duffle coat. The supporting cast performed well, although given that included the likes of Mayall, Joanna Lumley and Nigel Planer it's not surprising. What was surprising, however, is that given how energetic Mayall usually is it was interesting and refreshing to see him perform a role which demands almost no movement. There were some funny moments too, such as when Joey believes she has discovered a code, only to find out that Creek has solved it already. The way it's revealed was hilarious.

However, in terms of the case itself, there were some flaws in it. My brother was watching the episode as well, and remarked on one of the clues, which was a pair of footprints right up against a wall. The way the footprints were formed we by a pair of shoes being dropped from a high window and landing perfectly next to each other just in that spot. As my brother pointed out, surely the shoes would not have fallen straight to the ground, but tumbled as they fell.

So in this case, the performances as we good, but the writing could have been better. A new series is in the works so hopefully the show will return to form.

I hope Mr Hall, the BBC's new Director-General, sat down that Monday evening and watched Jonathan Creek and quietly applauded. I can't remember a 90 minutes - actually I can, Doctor Who last week, but this one isn't really for children - I enjoyed so much. Oh, bits are always beseechingly silly. And it comes along so seldom that we're almost bound to enjoy it. But this was still a winning showcase for simple, entertaining, catch-all British drama. So we got a jaunty-spooky theme tune reminiscent of Harry Potter, we got Joanna Lumley, we got both Rik Mayall (still impossibly handsome and delightfully hammy) and Nigel Planer off The Young Ones, a body that had escaped from a locked room, Sheridan Smith playing feisty-naughty modern, as is her winning wont, another body felled by a gargoyle pushed off a mansion (that was Midsomer or possibly Wycliffe), some good gags about academics and, of course, Alan Davies.

His Jonathan is married off now (to the very sexy Sarah Alexander) and has, and you can't quite blame him, thus reluctantly had to put on a suit and get a good job in her daddy's advertising agency. For a few minutes he actually looks rather cool and rather suited in fact to both the Don Draper comportment and life. But soon, excuses combine to let him dig out the old duffel and go off to solve impossibly complex cases with the singular hangdog exuberance that holds the whole extraordinary thing together. Some serious bits, too, not least when Ms Lumley, playing a lifelong atheist, suddenly realises, and with a certain horror, that everything she has ever believed might not be true. This occasional series might not change the world, but it should change the way we remember just how solidly good simple entertainment on the BBC can be when it has the guts to go with its own happy formula.

With David Renwick's planned ITV sitcom frustratingly canned due to a creative dispute with channel bosses, Creek is the only outlet for one of the masters of TV comedy writing. The long-awaited Easter special saw Alan Davies and Sheridan Smith return, supported by Joanna Lumley, Rik Mayall and Nigel Planner, for a typically tricksy locked-room mystery.

You'd think that after 16 years and 28 episodes, Jonathan Creek might itself creak a little - how many more variations on the locked-room mystery can there possibly be? - but nothing could be further from the truth.

Plenty of fun is still to be had from the deliciously contrived plotting, melodramatic scenarios, star turns in supporting roles and sharp scripts peppered with neat comedy touches. Who cares that some of the exposition is so tortuous it borders on actor abuse?

A feature-length special, The Clue of the Savant's Thumb waits a full 15 minutes before the show's magician/sleuth hero makes an appearance. Instead, viewers are treated to a suitably overheated flashback preamble, set in 1968, involving sadistic nuns, hysterical teenage girls, stigmata, drug-induced visions and an unexplained death at a gothic mansion turned convent school.

And this was just the warm-up to the main event, in which the blood-drenched corpse of a legendary television producer disappears from the aforementioned locked room.

Alan Davies once again provides the calm centre around which all the mayhem revolves, with Joanna Lumley linking two of the three mysteries - writer David Renwick is never less than generous with his plotlines - and Rik Mayall still managing to deliver his trademark, wildly over-the-top performance, despite being cast as a wheelchair-using detective paralysed below the neck.