Caitlin Moran

And the silliest programme is . . .

The IT Crowd (Channel 4) started on Friday night with a double bill -- a wholly unprecedented launch technique for a sitcom, and one that displayed Channel 4's understandable smugness in continuing to secure the oeuvre of Graham (Father Ted, Black Books) Linehan. Linehan's sitcom worlds are the most instantly recognisable of the last 20 years: very traditional set-ups, with very conventional characters (the eccentric, the buffoon, the drudge, the drunkard, the ditz, the geek, etc). However, all operate in an air of such concentrated silliness that it's a wonder their eyes don't roll into the back of their heads and they all just drop down dead.

The IT Crowd is the new Graham (Father Ted, Black Books) Linehan sitcom, and therefore of major importance to anyone who habitually throws themselves on the sofa and sighs, "Ah, I love telly". The ludicrously talented Richard Ayoade finally gets a lead role, Chris Morris returns as a wholly satisfying parody of manhood, and the whole thing seems comfortably bedded in within 15 minutes. All in all, no reason to lose faith in humanity just yet.

As Ricky Gervais quite rightly commented at last week's Comedy Awards, it is both a travesty and a debacle that Peep Show (Friday, Channel 4) didn't win anything. Persistently the best thing on television at the moment -- a winning blend of clever, stupid and dark -- Peep Show, starring David Mitchell and Robert Webb, has also managed the achievement of being a British sitcom that stayed hot even in its third series, which puts it in very select company indeed (Blackadder, Rising Damp, Yes Minister, Dad's Army).

The irresistible rise of the ginger men

Perfect Day (Sunday, Five) was a one-off comedy by the makers of No Angels and This Life, centring on two large and objectionable premises. 1) That the world is in grave danger of running short on thirtysomethings having crises at sumptuous country-house hotel weddings, and 2) that a bride-to-be (Claire Goose formerly of Casualty) would, minutes before walking down the aisle, have doubts about marrying red-haired fox du jour Tom Goodman-Hill (from Spoons).

The new BBC Three sketch show Man Stroke Woman (Sunday) proved dreary. Despite being helmed by Ash The Office Atalla, it screened about as comfortably as a student review. By students from Norfolk, or Frome. An exploding dog, the words "Natalie Imbruglia" said over and over again, a baby accidentally put in the microwave, a terrible sense of self-conciousness and nervous energy. It is one of those shows where you look at the clock and realise that only 19 minutes have gone by when it feels like 40.

The opposite of the sublime Creature Comforts (ITV1, Sunday), of course, where ten minutes feels like one, extremely lovely, second. As with so many of the best things in the world, how great it is lies in inverse proportion to how truly lunatic the idea is in the first place. Two married couples reworking Swedish folk-songs in the disco idiom? An animation team, spending two years synching random utterances from the British public to the actions of small Plasticine dogs and lice? This week, a man, rendered as a pig, did an impression of a cuckoo. It all deserves an Oscar.

Still laughing? No

It is in Little Britain's attitude to women that the show displays its most alarming aspects - mainly because it confirms that in this era of Zoo and Nuts and Heat, this is how women are generally regarded.

Of course, like most National Trust buildings, it didn't matter if you never actually visited it, or thought the whole thing was outdated, dusty and worm-ridden. Personally, I could never watch more than nine minutes of Monarch without trying to find some CSI on satellite.

Autumn means sitcoms - presumably with the intention that we can laugh ourselves warm, and only have to put the heating on for Newsnight. Alas, Carrie and Barry (BBC One, Saturday), back for an inexplicable second series, would leave most viewers in the first stages of mild hypothermia.

Frasier, we miss you

However, both The Magoons and Bromwell High suffer from being part of the same scheduling squad as Balls of Steel. It's very easy to call Balls of Steel the worst programme ever broadcast on terrestrial television - primarily because it is the worst programme ever broadcast on terrestrial television.