No Heroics

No Heroics is a very British take on the superhero genre, largely set in a pub called The Fortress, where the city's caped crusaders gather after a hard day's crime fighting. The pub, however, has two rules that it strictly enforces - no use of special powers or wearing of costumes on the premises.

This would appear to defeat the whole object of the sitcom exercise, but the show is actually enhanced by its self-imposed limitations, directing it towards more character-based comedy. Off-duty the superheroes wear business suits and ties, and actively engage in a canteen culture of sexism, homophobia, preening and bullying, inviting comparison with City bankers at their macho worst. The format makes for quite edgy and uncomfortable comedy, but still offers the opportunity for broader, more slapstick silliness when the heroes leave the confines of the pub and enter the outside world.

I think No Heroics is very promising indeed and would possibly have enjoyed it even more if I had spotted the many superhero in-jokes that my comic book-obsessed friends assure me are peppered throughout the show.

ITV2's new comedy No Heroics is fast, funny and a little ingenious: a collection of very British superheroes gather in a pub to compare war wounds and see who is most famous after a day of fighting crime. Like Heroes, then, but with cheese and onion crisps. Their superhero suits are a bit rubbish.

Patrick Baladi's Excelsor is the smarmy frontrunner, but Drew Pearce, the creator/writer, established an engaging collection of pretenders to the throne: The Hotness, a sexually inadequate 'cape' with a penchant for heat; Electro-clash, who let a shop owner get shot and suffer from his injuries because he was sexist; Timebomb is Spanish, depressed, unhinged; She Force is a superhero with the twittering insecurities of Carrie Bradshaw.

No Heroics is a sitcom about superheroes, set mainly in a bar where they all sit around drinking too much, talking about sex, and revealing their deep personal inadequacies. It is quite a nice idea, certainly a much better idea than My Hero, the one with Ardal O'Hanlon as Thermoman, but so far Drew Pearce's script is too ready to fall back on the drink and the sex every time it needs a laugh. It needs a good script editor to sort it out.

Yes, it's yet another Brits are rubbish. Let's make a sitcom about losers effort. But No Heroics isn't bad, despite that massive disclaimer. Even if the writer does seem to think at times that simply swearing a lot is just as funny as well written dialogue, the cast are all very good, there are some good lines and good situations and yes, there are more than a few laugh out loud moments.

The main problem with this comedy is that the writers have apparently decided to replace the jokes with an unremitting coarseness - the swearword count is impressively high - and to produce characters that no-one in their right mind could give two hoots about. The only performance that has anything going for it is James Lance as Timebomb, as at least he has a bit of whithering, self-deprecating wit about him, but mainly the actors seem to be on autopilot.

And this is all a great shame because it should be a good idea. The likes of Heroes shows that we love our comic book heroes, and showing them on their days off should be a great starting point for comedy. As it is, No Heroics is just another reason why ITV is known as the graveyard of comedy.

Featuring a London-based group of Superheroes with powers ranging from the ability to control machines to being able to see a minute into the future, this was a fairly wobbly first episode. Still, with plenty of potential for laughs, we'll let some of the clunky introductions pass and see what subsequent episodes bring...

Imagine if superheroes were susceptible to human failings and emotions. So runs the novel premise of this new six-part comedy in which four lazy, mediocre 'heroes' spend their time drinking in their local pub, and worrying about their sex lives rather than actually helping people in trouble. It's a pity that an intriguing idea - coupled with some clever comic book references - is wasted by a puerile script which doesn't live up to the concept.

Call it the Heroes effect. Perfectly normal people, not just comic-book geeks, are getting excited about superheroes, and superheroes are becoming more like normal people. Here Nicholas Burns (off Nathan Barley) and James Lance play slacker supermen who would be perfectly happy wasting their lives in the pub, were it not for the irritatingly flawless Excelsor (The Office's Patrick Baladi) who never stops reminding everyone how Super he is.

Packed with in-jokes for the fans and normal jokes for the rest of us, No Heroics will keep the long autumn nights safe for Truth, Justice, and the Comedy Way.

Sex-obsessed comedy about a group of off-duty superheroes. Given our ultra-competitive society, the superheroes have a chart with the most successful heroes at the top. Excelsior, played by Patrick Baladi, is a pain and loves taking the mickey out of the meek Hotness. Good idea but needs fewer superheroes and more super jokes.

What do superheroes do on their days off? If they're British they go to the pub of course - a shabby boozer called The Fortress with a strict door policy: No Capes. No Powers. No Heroics.

As the first sitcom to be commissioned for ITV2, No Heroics comes out fighting and boasts a gaggle of sitcom veterans as costumed crusaders.

Being Brits they're all ever-so-slightly rubbish, and probably none more so than The Hotness/Alex, played by the appropriately named Nicholas Burns. What this man can do with a ready meal is nobody's business.

Then there is Patrick Baladi as Excelsior/Delvin who can fly, and who rates the most headlines in New Power Express, the Superheroes' magazine.

They are all fame-obsessed and can often be found glued to their own TV channel, The Power Hour, to see if they get any mentions.

Claire Keelan is Electroclash/Sarah, who can speak to machines, She-Force/Jenny (Pulling's Rebekah Staton) is super-strong, except when it comes to men, where she's a push-over.

And James Lance's hero is a gay Spaniard called Timebomb/Don and can see one minute into the future.

The brainchild of comic book fanatic Drew Pearce, the affectionate yet satirical tone is gauged just right to appeal to super-nerds and regular viewers, and is packed with tiny details to reward aficionados. But you need Supersight to spot them. Or a pause button, maybe.

Episodes one and two might be a slow burn, establishing the No Heroics universe in the same way that the early Friends episodes worked to acclimatise us to the improbably perfect world of six Gotham singletons. By the third instalment though, the hapless heroes are established as a superior sitcom characters that deserve a spot in the pantheon of loveable loser comedy that stretches from Tony Hancock to David Brent.

Packed with in-jokes for the fanboys, and perfectly normal jokes for the rest of us, No Heroics looks like a superior sitcom that will keep the long autumn nights safe for Truth, Justice, and the Comedy Way.