Caitlin Moran

Mad About Alice is the worst sitcom yet made. Actually no, of course it isn't really the worst . . . what I meant to say is that Mad About Alice joins all the other bad sitcoms in the unrankable stew of worst sitcoms ever.

But this is, I suspect, the magic of As Time Goes By: its unwillingness to fill every cranny with one-liners. The world is too full of wisecracks, these days. In the 21st century, everyone does zingy little sceneenders -- from newsreaders ("Fireworks night -- now what bright spark came up with that?") to the man in PC World in Solihull who sold me my lap-top ("And good news if you're scared of mice -- this one just has a touch-pad, instead!")

The big question that the first Grumpy Old Men raised last Friday was: what was wrong with Paul Ross the week they were filming? Grumpy Old Men was prime Ross territory, one of those curious programmes invented at the end of the 20th century where celebrities don't tell anecdotes or share facts, but just say very ordinary things about very ordinary things ("I don't think we ever had a Hula Hoop - my friend's sister did, though"), as if they were trying to be in an Alan Bennett play, but didn't quite understand how they work.

Monkey Dust, the "edgy", wholly animated League of Gentlemen rip-off, looks fabulous, despite having gags as dated as babies secretly thinking vile things.

Of course, there are some Christmas specials that don't call themselves Christmas specials - the Only Fools and Horses Christmas special (BBC One, 9.40pm, Christmas Day) is called merely Only Fools and Horses, possibly in acknowledgement that, if it's as bad as last year's, it won't be special at all.

There's also Alistair McGowan's The Big Impression at 8.25pm on BBC One, which never seems to get the critical face-kissing it deserves, yet is clearly one of the cleverest programmes we have. He noticed that no one can ever own more than half the rights to the Queen Vic. That Richard Madeley would ideally do his links in little raps. And that Dot Cotton is almost Albert Steptoe. All Rory Bremner's done in 15 years is to point out that politicians aren't wholly candid.

Plan to be unconscious for December 27 - there's just a new Absolutely Fabulous (BBC One, 9pm) and you know how bad the last series was - and stay out of it until 9pm on December 28, when BBC Two has a Peter Cook evening, which will suit your mood of alternate gloom and psychotic whimsy perfectly.

While the script, direction and characterisation are all borderline holy in their perfection, it ignores the fact that, at this stage of his career, rather than let him languish on the "third best slot on Radio Norwich", the producers of The Entertainers would have dropped Sayer like a shot for a pop at Partridge.

With The League of Gentlemen off the boil and The Office now as underground as the Mir space station, Look Around You is currently the BBC's sole piece of cult-comedy programming. Fundamentally, it's the schools' programming of your 1970s/1980s childhood rejigged by two very silly and disturbed men, Robert Popper and Peter Serafinowicz.