Stephen Fry

Two excellent autobiographical shorts in the Little Crackers season beginning with Stephen Fry recalling his time as a rule-breaker at his strict public school (the young Fry winningly played by Daniel Roche). Then, at 9.15pm, Kathy Burke remembers the final day of school exams when all she could dream of being was a writer for the NME.

The way Stephen Fry's turned out, who would have thought he was a precocious blighter cheekier than a building site in summer? You'd have thought teachers would have adored a pupil who could correct them all the time. Yet that wasn't the case, as this fine comedy set in a 1960s boarding school finds a young Fry (Daniel Roche, monopolising the cheeky posh boy roles now that he's the lead in Just William, too) in bother with his headmaster (Stephen Fry). Disappointed with the tuck shop offerings, young Fry heads further afield to procure fresh sugary supplies, but when he's caught getting sweets from the village, he's faced with a choice - will he 'fess up, or use new boy Bunce as a patsy?

Little Crackers review: Short and Sweet

Obviously Stephen Fry and Kathy Burke deserve much credit for their excellent work, but knocking up short scripts like these shouldn't have been too demanding for such talented thespians. The real credit should probably go to Sky for commissioning this original format.

Running nightly this week are this year's seasonal shorts little crackers from Sky One, which annually tries to make up for the dearth of decent original drama and comedy from January-November by gorging us with a festive selection box featuring some of the best-known names in the business.

This time they've got the likes of Victoria Wood, Catherine Tate, Stephen Fry, Kathy Burke, Julian Barratt, Jo Brand, Bill Bailey - oh, the list goes on, basically anyone who's ever appeared on a panel game is either appearing in, writing or directing one of these 12-minute films, mostly based on autobiographical stories about their childhoods.

And like a selection box, there are a few yucky praline noisette ones. David Baddiel's film is as annoying as he is, though it does feature a good impersonation of Record Breakers star Norris McWhirter by Alastair McGowan, who must have been delighted to get a chance to do an impression he probably last did as a child. Chris O'Dowd has a dull grumpy Santa story and Dawn French oddly casts herself as the late Queen Mother.

But there are some nice strawberry cream ones too: Victoria Wood's is a sweet, nostalgic tale, Julian Barratt's teenaged heavy metallers are quirky and Kathy Burke's memory of meeting Joe Strummer is endearing. Anyway, they're all over so quickly that even the ho-hum ones are watchable enough - shame though that for Sky, decent original programmes come barely more than once a year.

Victoria Wood directs this loosely autobiographical story about a Lancashire girl whose dismal Christmas is transformed upon visiting a merry neighbour. Hers is the first of a dozen bite-sized films written by and starring the cream of British comedy - Stephen Fry, Bill Bailey, Jo Brand - shown in double bills. Next up tonight is Chris O'Dowd's impish tale about the time he ambushed that white-bearded, milk- and mince pie-pinching trickster in red. Nine-year-old Chris is as lippy a rapscallion as you might expect, while O'Dowd takes the role of disgruntled supermarket Santa and Sharon Horgan is terrific as harassed Mum.

The cream of the British comedy crop come together for this series of brand new comedy shorts for Sky1 HD. Following a season of dramatic 10 Minute Tales last Christmas, this December it's Comedy's turn to shine in an anthology of short films, written by and featuring 12 of the nation's biggest and most loved comic stars. With the likes of Stephen Fry, Catherine Tate, Julia Davis and Bill Bailey flexing their creative muscles they're the perfect bite-sized morsel of entertainment for you and your family this Christmas. Tonight it's the turn of Victoria Wood and Chris O'Dowd who get the season underway.

A nightly season of short autobiographical films featuring some of Britain's best comic talent opens tonight with stories by Victoria Wood and Chris O'Dowd. Dawn French, Stephen Fry, Bill Bailey, Kathy Burke, Jo Brand and Catherine Tate are among those writing, narrating and starring in these seasonal dramatisations of their lives, often with stories recalled from their childhood. It's a bit hit-and-miss. Wood's is on first, though hers is the only story not to feature a younger version of herself. The IT Crowd's O'Dowd follows with an amusing story of why as a boy he thought Santa was a "big weirdo".

Whether you're sick of the sight of Stephen Fry or think his national treasure status is as strong as ever, there's no denying the consistency of QI, which even in its eighth series still has no rival as the quiz show for the discerning viewer. Joining Alan Davies this week are Jimmy Carr, Dara O'Briain (the host of The Apprentice: You're Fired! Wednesdays) and BBC sports presenter Clare Balding.

A modest moment of TV history took place in Fry and Laurie Reunited, in which the beloved comedy duo appeared on screen following a gap of 15 years.

Interviewing each other informally in an English country manor, their mutual affection was palpable. Although it was charming seeing them in tandem again, it was disappointing that their cheerfully anecdotal conversation offered scant insight into their working process. Sadly, it wasn't that kind of show.

Instead, this was - as Fry might say - a moist, fluffy tribute to one of Britain's most exceptional double acts: a reminder that Laurie is one of the most naturally gifted clowns of his generation, and that Fry was once so much more than a cosy national treasure.

Despite their closeness, it was interesting to note their different temperaments. Now one of the world's biggest TV stars thanks to House, Laurie disguised himself behind a torrent of unsentimental quips, while Fry guffawed adoringly and spoke emotionally of their relationship.

It's tempting to draw parallels with Peter Cook and Dudley Moore: the troubled, resolutely English wit and the ivory-tinkling clown turned unlikely superstar sex symbol. But there isn't a hint of jealousy or spite between them.

As torrid as it got was when Laurie questioned Fry's memories of their first meeting and expressed concern that he was spreading himself too thin, while Fry dug heavily at the likes of Little Britain for lazily regurgitating sketches, which Fry and Laurie rarely did.

Notwithstanding a glimpse of their obscure comedy pilot from 1983, this reunion was over-reliant on familiar clips and padding. If not a squandered opportunity exactly, then not quite the summit I'd hoped for.