The Thick Of It

A superb episode of Armando Iannucci's effortless political satire, as Nicola Murray and her opposition counterpart, Peter Mannion, appear on Richard Bacon's radio show. And the results are, as you'd expect, not pretty. But it's the encounter behind the scenes between Malcolm Tucker and Mannion's own wizard of spin, Stewart Pearson, where the real thrust of this episode lies. It's like the meeting of two powerful Jedi. Or something.

Richard Bacon on being in The Thick of It

Richard Bacon describes what it was like to take part in an episode of The Thick Of It.

Chris Addison: Into the bear pit

The Thick of It is a savage send-up of Labour, politics and spin. So would its star feel uneasy inside Parliament?

Den Of Geek review of episode 3.4

Malcolm Tucker's finest diatribe of the series to date is one of the many highlights of the latest episode of The Thick Of It...

Good news: tonight sees the return of Roger Allam as laconic Tory frontbencher Peter Mannion. Mannion's that rare creature - a screen Tory who isn't a frothing monster or a cad. Instead he radiates disdain for the political process, and in particular for his own ludicrous spin maestro Stewart Pearson, a cant-filled creep forever wanting to "take a turn on the ideas carousel" or "imagineer a narrative". Mannion and his team are due at the ministry for a routine visit just as news leaks of problems in Secretary of State Nicola Murray's private life: her daughter is in trouble at school. As always, the rumours spiral into a vicious storm of invective and farce.

The Thick of It: series three, episode 4

The opposition return - and Tucker is put to shame by the opposition spin doctor. But not in the swearing stakes, obviously.

Joanna Scanlan on playing Terri

"Terri Coverley's natural habitat is the Buckingham Palace Garden Party. She's already been invited on six occasions. If Terri is not actually in attendance at The Palace, then she likes to dress as though she is."

Tonight's instalment of officially the best comedy on television (according to me, so there) sees the return of Roger Allam's Tory MP Peter Mannion, last seen in the fantastic specials a couple of years ago. It's a testament to the writing team that Mannion is a likable if fairly impotent character - it would have been easy to portray the Tory as slavering, smug blaggards. It's as sharp as ever, with Mannion's team attempting to capitalise on problems in Nicola Murray's private life. And of course, in the thick of it, there's Malcolm. There's always Malcolm.

The foul-mouthed misanthrope, which is what writer Armando Ianucci has constructed as a comic monster from an image of Alastair Campbell, former director of communications to Tony Blair, now has a new victim, minister Nicola Murray (Rebecca Front). She has four kids and a businessman husband, is neurotic, desperate for affection and approval, happy to blame everyone else for her mistakes - and is a media disaster waiting for its moment.

Peter Capaldi, who plays spin-doctor Malcolm, is the linchpin here, with his gaunt face - most terrible when smiling - and his conviction that all around him are guilty until their innocence is brought to him on a plate. And his terror, too - which is that of one who understands the ruthlessness of media that no longer care for fairness in their dealings or for policy in their coverage, but, like a piranha shoal, drift here and there until blood is in the water, when they swarm. The Thick of It has a solid base, but Capaldi is its on-screen genius.

Honecker's hermetic make-believe regime was eventually brought down by people power. On The Thick of It, new Labour's chief Stasi officer, Malcolm Tucker, came face to face with a real person and short circuited. She was a campaigning widow requisitioned for the annual Labour conference as its "people's champion". An ugly fight ensued over who should introduce her, the PM or Nicola Murray, his failing social affairs minister. It resulted in Glenn, Murray's all-grey special adviser, being punched in the nose by a frantic Tucker. The widow was not impressed and soon tweeted to that effect. "I should have known not to trust you lot when you sold out the metric martyrs," she told Tucker, who had met his match, namely democracy. Saturday's episode of this superb satire, contained a brief West Wing reference. These two baroquely articulate programmes are mirror images of each other. In the Bush years, America needed to be told that there was a better alternative. We British like to be reassured that our masters could be even worse.