Jam & Jerusalem

Jam and Jerusalem Review

The alliterative title, Jam and Jerusalem, along with an impeccable comedy pedigree is the best thing about this British import. It looks so-o-o-o promising on paper. Thirty minutes later, the truth dawns.

Jam And Jerusalem Review

My nomination in the 'what a load of tosh' category goes to Jam and Jerusalem, a witless cross between Last of the Summer Wine and The Vicar of Dibley.

Jam and Jerusalem is distractingly top-heavy with star turns. Appearing in Jennifer Saunders' new sitcom is clearly a prestige gig for an actor, so much so that Hywel Bennett can be recruited for the sole purpose of being killed off and getting the plot moving.

Sue Johnstone stars as grieving widow Sal, forced by bereavement and redundancy into the companionable embrace of the local Women's Institute. Cue a host of comedy cameos from people accustomed to having their own shows.

My inclination is to despise Jam and Jerusalem, like Chelsea FC, for greedily snapping up all the available talent. However, like Chelsea FC, the show is rather successful. Saunders' script is poignant and amusing - there was even a moment of comic genius featuring a false arm - the characters just the right side of eccentric and the starry cast certainly deliver the goods. My favourite performance was Rosie Cavaliero's bereavement counsellor, gently admonishing Sal for processing her feelings of grief in entirely the wrong order.

Two main gripes. First, how come Sal was completely composed and unaffected by her husband's funeral? Second, what is Dawn French doing? Everyone else in the cast has adopted a naturalistic acting style, whereas French has opted for a more panto approach in playing the village idiot.

Knitted hymn book, Vicar?

Girls do have a good time when they get together, don't they? Particularly when the girls in question are a group of comic actors gathered round a Jennifer Saunders script like wasps round a pot of the titular breakfast spread in Jam & Jerusalem.

A brand new game for Friday nights: spot Joanna Lumley. She's absolutely unrecognisable as a bonkers bicycling pensioner in Jennifer Saunders' gentle rural comedy set in Clatterford in Devon - one of those imaginary villages where you can't step out of your cottage without tripping over a dozen or so gurning eccentrics.

But what this lacks in laughs it makes up for in star names. As well as Saunders playing a rich, horsey, friend of Madonna-type, there's Pauline McLynn from Father Ted, Sally Phillips from Smack The Pony, Maggie Steed as the leader of the Women's Guild, a bubble-permed Dawn French as the village idiot, and David Mitchell of That Mitchell And Webb Look.

The piece was actually written for Sue Johnston who plays Sal Vine, the practice nurse whose doctor husband rather thoughtlessly keels over and dies.

Perhaps because of the huge cast, and the way slapstick comedy runs alongside sadness, this first episode feels like a patchwork quilt knocked up from leftover wool.

But some scenes, such as when Sal is visited by a hopeless grief counsellor (the brilliant Rosie Cavaliero) suggest it might be worth giving it a chance to find its feet.

The omens are good for this new Friday-night comedy: it's packed with talent - including Joanna Lumley, Sue Johnston, David Mitchell, Pauline McLynn, Dawn French and Sally Phillips. It's also written by Jennifer Saunders, whose flappywomen comedy formula may not be universally popular, but it has a devoted following among viewers.

But, my goodness, it's hard to find laugh-out-loud moments in this first episode - or even smile-politely ones even though the setting of the action should inspire them: a small Devon village characterised by League of Gentlemenly oddness.

Women's Institute: It's not all jam and Jerusalem

Posing naked for calendars, indulging in pole-dancing: member of the Women's Institute have come a long way. Now comes the ultimate endorsement - a satire featuring French, Saunders and Lumley. What is going on?