Second series of the jaunty historical drama based on Bulgakov's books, starring John Hamm and Daniel Radcliffe as old and young versions of the titular doc. The elder is out of the asylum following treatment and grasps life anew, while his younger self settles into a sexless relationship with Pelageya, a relationship that revolves around her stealing opium for him. Meanwhile, the Russian civil war rages and the injured begin to pile up in the surgery corridor. A lot more fun than that sounds.

Almost a year since they first teamed up for Playhouse Presents, Daniel Radcliffe and Jon Hamm return for another four-part romp as junior and senior versions of Mikhail Bulgakov's incident-prone doctor in rural Russia. This time out, though, the morphine-addled roles have been reversed. As the bleakly comic drama picks up in 1935, Hamm is almost Don Draper-esque - all cleaned up after kicking the habit - while Radcliffe is rapidly flushing his career down the toilet, tapping the surgery's supplies to keep himself comfortably numb.

Even in the frozen backwaters of early twentieth-century Russia, a doctor can't keep on caning the morphine indefinitely. As this second series begins, Daniel Radcliffe's junior medic hasn't realised that yet. His older alter-ego (Jon Hamm), knows it only too well, however.

Tonight, with the Civil War raging, there's a sudden run on painkillers - but how's a doctor to keep the monkey off his back while facing such heavy demand? A Young Doctor's Notebook remains watchable rather than essential - the comedy still isn't quite uproarious enough to justify the slim characterisation. But the tone's spot on - bad-taste fun with just the right degree of looming tragedy - and the performances are relishable.

Daniel Radcliffe: I'm the happiest I've ever been

"There was a time when I thought that the closer the public perception of me was to the real me the happier I would be."

So strong was the appeal of seeing Daniel Radcliffe and Jon Hamm - Harry Potter and Don Draper - together that Sky Arts just had to bring back the Playhouse Presents special for another outing.

It's 1918 Russia, and the raging civil war is pumping a constant supply of casualties through the halls of the young doctor's (Radcliffe) hospital. As the pressure mounts, he resorts to stealing morphine in a bid to get respite from his gruelling life and his infuriating older self.

Dark, but also delightful, A Young Doctor's Notebook is a unique telly treat that shines even brighter with its added star power. There's just four episodes, so don't miss them!

Jon Hamm interview

Jon Hamm has put away the sharp suits to play a Russian medic in A Young Doctor's Notebook with Daniel Radcliffe. Here he talks about moving on from Mad Men and his alter ego Don, whose inner life draws so much on Hamm's own past...

They gave us Jon Hamm and Daniel Radcliffe sharing a bath in A Young Doctor's Notebook and now we've got Kylie Minogue gyrating to The Velvet Underground - Sky Arts' Playhouse Presents... certainly has pulling power.

In Hey Diddly Dee, a star-studded cast - Mathew Horne, Peter Serafinowicz, Homeland's David Harewood sporting a Brummie accent - find themselves caught up in a theatrical black comedy which trips them back to Andy Warhol's Factory glory days, with a potentially fatal clash of ego and ambition.

Oh, and a scene-stealing black cat.

Kylie Minogue, Mat Horne and Peter Serafinowicz? Maybe we shouldn't be surprised. With casting coups including Emma Thompson, Harry Shearer and Daniel Radcliffe, the first run of 'Playhouse Presents' established itself as an amiably eccentric short-drama strand to watch.

This series opener, written and directed by Marc Warren, is a messy curio, but not without merit. Serafinowicz is the stage star with an ego inversely proportionate to his talent; Kylie his vampish co-star with a secret; and Horne the gofer with acting ambitions of his own. All three are brought together under flailing director David Harewood (excellent) for a doomed fringe production based on Andy Warhol's life.

It's an odd blend of slapstick, satire and Twilight Zone-ish mystery, and showcases Warren's direction more flatteringly than the uncertain writing. The pacing and tone are haphazard, but occasional sequences impress (in particular the Warhol 'Venus in Furs' montage which plumbs remarkable depths of intentional awfulness) and the performances just about hold it together.