Cilla Black, naked in a Jacuzzi. That is the prospect dangled before our imaginations in this opener, in which the former Blind Date presenter makes a cameo appearance that's as cheerfully clunky as cheap amber jewellery. It's in keeping with the series, which feels like the funny bits of yesteryear's Coronation Street sent on permanent holiday - salt and vinegar comedy that raises as much of a wince as a smile. Tim Healy stars as a the new barman and unlikely transvestite, but it's mostly the usual faces, including leathery old Madge, who finds herself on her uppers.

Commencing with a cheerful explanation of how all of us are utterly alone in this world, Charlie Brooker turns to TV's treatment of love and how the "flickering fibbing machine" has misled us about romance. He skewers the myths about soul mates and the importance of the grand gesture, and shows how TV's insistence on photogenic beauty raises unrealistic expectations. A little obvious in places, but always redeemed by Brooker's verbals, which soar to inspired heights in an extended description of his own face.

Carpool is a distinctly low-frills, ingeniously penny-pinching chat show, with its cut-price opening credits and host Robert Llewellyn picking up guests in his car and interviewing as he drives them around. This week, it's the turn of Tim Vine, king of the twitter gag, whose puns Llewellyn finds amusing to an alarming degree, and comedian Doon Mackichan, whose latest show draws for its entertainment on the subject matter of recent family events including her father's death, her divorce, and the grave illness of her young son.

Charlie Brooker turns up his drollery-o-meter to 11 as he presents a history of some of TV's most jolting attempts to lull us into a false sense of insecurity, from early public information films warning against flying kites into pylons, through to dramas like Threads in the 1980s, a graphic depiction of nuclear annihilation, in which Britain is reduced to "a Plymouth-style wasteland". Between clips and sketches, Brooker's argument is that overexposure to such TV causes us to overestimate the amount of risk we actually face in everyday life.

Ben Elton performed his first live stand up in a decade in these Dave specials first shown in October. The so-called "Godfather Of Alternative" has become comedy's embarrassing Dad in recent years, what with We Will Rock You and all, but his routines on rebranding and body piercing in particular show that he's still driven by the same moral sense and sarcastic despair at modern life as ever. Jason Byrne and Canadian Tom Stade guest.

For its makers, Carpool certainly has budgetary virtues. Instead of going to the expense of hiring a studio and building a set, they simply send out Robert Llewellyn in his Toyota Prius to pick up celebrities, whom he is then filmed interviewing in his car. Cheap as chips. This week, it's the turn of Jason Byrne, en route from the airport, who waxes vaguely amusing about conspiracy theories. Jo Brand is the next passenger, getting to retell the story of how she once flunked an audition to play herself.

The second prequel to Only Fools and Horses, set in 1960/61, in which Nicholas Lyndhurst plays the cerebral criminal who, it turns out, fathered Rodney Trotter and reappears in the life of Del Boy's dear old mum for more repressed romance. The Inbetweeners' James Buckley stars as the young Del, flogging imported Buddy Holly singles at the market and engaging in multiple dalliances, including one with a young Indian girl. One suspects this will be an annual fixture - it's watchable but apart from a good gag about knitting saris, the mirth of OFAH has been replaced by post-Heartbeat 60s period eye candy.

This glorious series outdoes itself with each episode and tonight's is a tour de force, a lesson in the sitcom as men in confinement, with Mark and Jez spending much of it locked in a hallway. Mark is desperate to escape as he has to attend his son's christening; Jez, meanwhile, is determined to order pizza. Myriad highlights include Jez's insouciant disregard for the mathematics of permutation - "just try all the variations," he advises Mark, who can't quite remember a phone number off the top of his head.

A product of C4's Comedy Showcase, PhoneShop is set in the high street world of mobile phone sales and features a boss who fancies himself as a bit of a motivator. Immediate Office/David Brent comparisons spring to mind (indeed Gervais has a minor hand in this) but despite its improvised feel, there is a broad anti-realist, improbable tone. Most of the characters talk in the faux patois of the wannabe black, including, curiously, the black character. This, amid the spivvy salesmanship, becomes a pretty dominant motif; how funny you find it will determine how much you enjoy this series.