There exists a comedians' in-joke, only very slightly up its own jacksie, in which one asks: "What's the secret of good com..." only to have the second interrupt with the shout: "Timing!" But that is, indeed, the very singular secret of comedy, timing, and W1A, in its second outing, gets it just-so, in the same way that there is only one just-so way in which to shoot cuffs, tap dance slowly, play Chopin or excise a pineocytoma.

Writer and director John Morton has, admittedly, the best of sublime comedy talent to work with. Hugh Bonneville, Nina Sosanya, Jessica Hynes, Jason Watkins. But he has, in this crammed hour, not only to re-thumbnail the personalities with a wizard's thumb but get the timing beyond reproach. To this end, the entire cast are apparently "invited" to spend up to seven hours rehearsing 10 seconds of rapid-fire dialogue. I'm sure the above four could improvise delightfully - been lucky enough to meet two of them, one over drinks after a funeral, another over an extremely fun lunch, and what different people they are, thus what fine actors - but the Morton gene calls for just-so, and the BBC, bravely risking much to rip the ferret out of itself in this wince-out-loud comedy, acceded, in what may well become its finest confection since Fawlty Towers.

Thus, for instance, the five just-so bollards. In more minor hands, the sequence in which the black Range Rover of HRH, an (unseen) Charles, is stymied at the entrance to New Broadcasting House, inside which the welcoming committee have become hogtied by their own insane security protocols, could have been simple farce. The anti-terrorist bollards would just have jumped up and down or spiked Charlie's RR in the sump. Instead, Dave (Andrew Brooke), head of Beeb security, aided only by a ridiculous smartphone and the meaningless catchphrase "we are status-active", manages with a stoic glower to "relent" bollards 2 and 4. And then, in quiet desperation, Nos 1, 3 and 5. There is a full nine-second pause. All bollards down. Then bollard 3 reappears, like a giant erection (as if there's any other kind).

There is glorious timing here, yes, but there's also humanity. Was I alone in quietly cheering whip-smart Lucy (Sosanya) in being the first to make it to the royal meet-and-greet, having left the three witches trapped in their own personalities and also a non-revolving revolving door? Or in feeling, admittedly slightly, a twitch sorry for Will, the good-looking, charming intern with the kind of shoe-size IQ even a mother would struggle to love? If you didn't see it, I just feel for you. Do so. David Tennant's perky voiceovers, dry as sandblasted Ryvita, are worth the licence fee alone.

The BBC has a problem. It's in danger of losing the Wimbledon rights to a rival broadcaster. On top of that it's considered that the tournament is too staid, white and elitist.

Enter PR extraordinaire Siobhan Sharpe, who is tasked with the job of making Wimbledon cool and 'ethnically, not so much white'.

It was just one of the corporation's dilemmas witnessed in W1A (BBC Two), which returned for a new series with an hour-long special. It's the mock-umentary that mercilessly lampoons the Beeb in all its politically correct, management-speak glory.

Just like most of the employees Siobhan (played by the brilliant Jessica Hynes) communicates in meaningless, corporate parlance. 'Yah. Totally. Epic,' is her favourite soundbite. Her solution to the Wimbledon issue was to 'mash it up and pimp it' by calling it Win-bledon, getting people like Alan Sugar and David Attenborough to act as umpires while members of the crowd chant and wave giant foam fingers.

Meanwhile hapless Entertainment Format Executive David Wilkes is desperate to come up with a new family-viewing show following the spectacular failure of Britain's Top Village.

His suggestion is Heavy Petting, a reality show were celebrities swap pets. Alternatively there's Britain's Top Family, where a family of toffs and a family of chavs fight it out to decide who is better.

'That's what ITV is for,' snapped Anna Rampton, the steely, charmless Head of Output. She had a point. I bet I wasn't the only person imagining ITV executives watching last night, pen and paper in hand, furiously scribbling notes.

Jeremy Clarkson's endless gaffes must be manna from heaven for writer and director John Morton. Last night Head of Values Ian Fletcher (Hugh Bonneville) was investigating the number of times Clarkson (whose name was bleeped out) said the word 't*****' following viewer's complaints.

Posh, clueless intern Will had to sit through four years' worth of Top Gear counting the number of times the word was uttered -- and, naturally, he messed that up as well.

Amid all that, the BBC was preparing for a visit from Prince Charles to congratulate them on becoming the first 'zero energy broadcaster'.

The BBC's bungling Head of Security, who bragged about his 'foolproof zonal lock-down system', was as competent as Mr Bean, while producer Lucy Freeman was chosen to greet HRH for no other reason than the fact she was non-white.

Last night's opener was witty, wordy and frantic with David Tennant's voiceover hitting the mark perfectly. At times it felt like too much was being crammed in, leaving the viewer almost breathless by the end.

You have to credit the BBC for allowing its operation to be ripped apart so savagely. Everybody had a daft title, nobody knew what they were doing and all were too afraid to do their job for fear of upsetting somebody else.

If the bumbling buffoons of W1A are even halfway accurate then it's little wonder all the political parties are promising to either reduce or freeze the licence fee!

W1A series 2 preview

Often overlooked, is David Tennant's narration which for me, holds the show together and often most of the laughs are as a result of his descriptions, for example "It's another day, at another time" or "After a year developing a drama, the project is finally nearing another meeting".

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Sometimes you watch a comedy and think "this is clever, isn't it?" and then you realise that, actually, you're not laughing all that much. So it was with W1A (BBC Two), a sort-of sequel to Olympics spoof Twenty Twelve that switches the satirical spotlight on to the BBC itself.

Look at us, we're the BBC and we can laugh at ourselves, is the subtext as David Tennant's arch voice-over guides us around BBC HQ in a maze of corporate speak, introducing us to a grazing herd of corporate types with a remit to think Big Thoughts and babble nonsense about 'appointment to view' television.

In the middle of it all, doing his dazed labrador thing, returns Hugh Bonneville's Ian Fletcher, this time as the BBC's new Head of Values, which seems to be exactly the same job as Director of Strategic Governance, played with obsequious brilliance by Jason Watkins, a comic actor of impressive versatility.

So far, so potentially side-splitting. Somehow, though, the in-jokery felt a touch too pleased with itself. A scene where Fletcher stumbled in on Salman Rushdie and Alan Yentob in the middle of an arm-wrestle bout was telling, a bit like that first day in a new job when someone says: "You don't have to be mad to work here but it helps" and you cringe, thinking: "Get me out of here now."

Let's not sound too harsh: W1A is ingeniously scripted, painting a neat picture of a culture where covering your back is number one in any ambitious individual's skill set. And things really picked up when, belatedly, Jessica Hynes returned as nightmare PR Siobhan Sharpe, a character so deliriously loathsome it really is funny. Whereas seeing a BBC run by bumbling idiots is merely believably bothersome: after all, we're paying for them.

He delivered the Olympics. Now, Ian Fletcher, the go-to man for looking mildly baffled by the madness of bureaucracy, has another big job on his hands: defending the BBC. Or, more accurately, he's the Beeb's new Head of Values, whatever that means. Who cares, when it entails the reunion of Twenty Twelve's Hugh Bonneville and Jessica Hynes? The latter is back as deliciously vacant PR Siobhan Sharpe, now posting selfies from around the meeting-room table. As Fletcher tries to find a desk to put his feet under, he's whisked off on a round of meetings about meetings. The tone is spot-on from the start and David Tennant's narration is the cherry on the cake.