It's the eighth series of this bantzier, nearer-the-knuckle alternative to A Question Of Sport, hosted by James Corden. For this opener, he's joined by Kevin Bridges, Jack Whitehall, Jamie Redknapp, Freddie Flintoff, Frank Lampard and Judy Murray ("Who's your favourite son?"). Among the items is a ribald take on footballers-turned-authors, while the chaps are put through their paces at a tennis training court to play John McEnroe, conducted in a suitable atmosphere of mutual mockery. Tim Henman and Nigel Havers also appear.

Robert Weide, producer of Curb Your Enthusiasm, is the unlikely writer and director of this new comedy set in Watford in the late 1960s. Nick Frost stars as the accountant whose drab world is anything but swinging. He's lost his wife (Olivia Colman) and mislaid his self-esteem, leaving him trying to piece together his life.

Football-based comedies have come and gone unmourned over the years but, despite the distractingly Elton John-like appearance of hero Warren and a general "British Family Guy" air, the pedigree of the scriptwriters and actors - from Simon Nye to Morwenna Banks - ensures this one is eminently watchable. Tonight, manic Brainsford United obsessive Warren unwisely persuades his reluctant wife and child to paint their faces for a big cup tie. There's a big cheerleader initiative, too, but all comes to grief before half-time.

"I backed a horse at 20 to one. It came in at half-past four." Even if you don't care for the joke, it's irresistible as told by Tommy Cooper, perhaps the most intrinsically funny man who ever lived. David Threlfall is great as the comedian in this biodrama, with support from Amanda Redman as long-suffering wife Gwen and Helen McCrory as his mistress, Mary. A rather sad account of a man in declining health who spent a lifetime avoiding getting his round in, relieved by rib-tickling recreations of his stage act.

Olivia Colman and Tom Hollander on Rev.

With none of the otherworldly airs or whisky-soaked vices of stereotyped TV priests, this thoughtful comedy shows the day-to-day reality of a religious calling: 'It's f***ing hard!'

For pure imagination, there's currently little to match Chris Bran and Justin Chubb's sitcom about the parochial island vaguely inspired by their native Guernsey. This week, the ineffectually autocratic Arbiter Maven tries to stop residents from celebrating the festival of Nacken. They ignore him, sneaking off to the Moosic tavern for a night of revelry, with entertainment provided by Master Croog and Rex Camalbeeter. Trouble ensues, however, when a certain someone is awoken. Rob Brydon guests.

A new season of the Wipe is always welcome. Each week, Brooker casts his customarily jaundiced eye across the worlds of the media, politics and the internet, as well as developments in TV, cinema, computer games and social media. Part of his success is that he doesn't hog the show but gets in good wingmen. Tonight's opener features contributions by comedians Jake Yapp and Brian Limond of Limmy's Show, as well as regular guest and American cultural correspondent Doug Stanhope.

A welcome return of the surreal comedy set on the fictional island of Jinsy. In the opener of this double bill, Arbiter Maven (Justin Chubb) is due for his Follication Ceremony, but his vanity gets the better of him as he uses a hair potion whose growth properties rage out of control. Stephen Fry guests as Dr Bevelspepp, relishing the rich dialogue, full of "herbal unguents" and suchlike. In the second, in which the island's bookkeeping is thrown into crisis by a racism scandal, Ben Miller appears as both the chief accountant and his daughter.

This series has been described as "like parachute jumping where you can't remember if you're wearing a parachute", with comedians asked to improvise a routine based on a subjects presented on a screen, which they're seeing for the first time while onstage. Tonight, taking up the challenge are British stand-up Matt Kirshen, American comedian Eddie Pepitone and Robin Williams, doing continued penance for Patch Adams and a host of similarly excruciating films. This format transports him back to his roots.

The 30th anniversary of The Meaning Of Life is another excuse for the five remaining Pythons to get together and reminisce. No need for an interviewer as they bounce observations among themselves, comparing memories of the movie's making before tut-tutting on the wider state of modern comedy production. They're looking elderly but their wits are undimmed; only when John Cleese singles out sketches in The Meaning Of Life in which Terry Jones starred as the film's weakest does a shadow of animosity flicker across proceedings.