Jam & Jerusalem

'I've got some crystal meth in the fridge,' piped up posh Caroline at a Women's Guild drugs talk in the village hall during the painful Jam & Jerusalem). 'I actually prefer it to Dom Perignon!' This was Jennifer Saunders saving the best joke for herself, even though Caroline is only a bit part. Yes, seriously, that was the best joke.

Jam And Jerusalem is so relentlessly rubbish it actually made me suspect that I'd been on crystal meth when finding Absolutely Fabulous so funny back in the day. Because it's almost impossible to believe this bumpkinbaiting effort, which might as well be called Aren't Country Folk Daft?, is the work of the same person. La Saunders must have been sniffing way too much manure in her country retreat to imagine that J&J is fit for anything other than mulching out as a makeweight repeat on G.O.L.D.

It's almost painful to watch the likes of Sue Johnston and David Mitchell work their socks off to inject something passing for life into their cardboard cut-out characters. And the world can surely live without Dawn French contributing yet another variation on her busty yokel simpleton routine, though admittedly she does do gumby with a certain gusto.

The WI drug lecture was easily the funniest part of Jam & Jerusalem. In a wonderfully unselfish performance, Hazel John as Pauline delivered her talk with the passion of a florist describing how to assemble a seasonal bouquet. "Jeannine from the Spar has let me have her bongo or bong, and this spoon, and there's rolling papers 'ere for us to have a go," she droned. Her audience carried on gossiping about the barn conversion at the back of Sal's garden, allegedly being carried out for Charles Dance. The name Charles Dance soon trumped every argument - he had been so good as Ivory Merchant "in the film of that name" - and no rumour about the protesting Sal was too scurrilous to be believed.

Content - ie, tales from a sluggish, genteel rural community where nothing much happens - determines this series's form and nearly seals its fate. Now stitched into a whole hour, Jam & Jerusalem on its return felt a bit long and a bit slow, but I seem to remember it did at 30 minutes too. What saves it, are the surrealist touches and, actually, Dawn French, whether she is dumbly suckling a lamb or mischievously barping out the EastEnders theme when a mini bombshell of news explodes in the pub. The question is whether Jam & Jerusalem could be funnier without looking as though it were trying to be funnier and thus spoiling the whole, nonchalant, thing.

Jennifer Saunders's cosy West Country WI sitcom returns for its third run. Tonight's series-opener sees the Clatterford Guild oppose a local barn conversion - until they hear rumours that it's to house a certain celebrity. The whimsical wit may split sofa opinion, but there's no doubting the quality of the cast, which is a Who's Who of Britcom: Sue Johnston (The Royle Family), David Mitchell (Peep Show), Sally Phillips (Smack the Pony), Pauline McLynn (Father Ted) and, of course, Saunders's comedy partner Dawn French.

Jennifer Saunders's strange tales of bucolic madness and comic grotesques, a sort of The League of Ladies as opposed to The League of Gentlemen, returns briefly for a three-part series. Nothing much has changed in Clatterford, where everyone is bonkers, particularly the members of the local women's guild. These include widowed Sal (Sue Johnston) who is trying and failing to cut down on her drinking, though she's roused from her frequent stupors when she learns that developers are converting a barn at the bottom of her garden. Rumour has it that it's for the suave Charles Dance, which sends most of the women into a frenzy of lust. But Sal is determined to put up a fight, despite the objections of her straitlaced son (played by David Mitchell), who fears she will damage his prospects of becoming a Lib Dem MP. It's a silly little tale full of comedy drunkenness and low farce - there's even a subplot about the local vicar apparently behaving disreputably. But daft as J&J is, there's still something oddly endearing about it.

Saints be praised! Sunday night television is saved by the return of Jennifer Saunders's fabulous comedy centring on the activities of the Clatterford Womens' Guild. It's brilliant, gentle stuff, but cut with a sense of anarchy that you'd expect from Saunders's writing. Sue Johnston, Dawn French and Pauline McLynn are all back, with great support from Rosie Cavaliero, David Mitchell and Maggie Steed, amongst others. This first hour long episode of three has the villagers getting flustered over a planning application - then they find out it might be for Charles Dance...