The League of Gentlemen

Lucas and Walliams, by contrast, seem content to sit in a comfort zone, churning out near-identical jokes over and over and over again. Whereas the League's characters became deeper and more complex over time, Little Britain turned into The Fast Show. Characters would come on, do the same old routine, say their catchphrases and go.

I've tried so hard to dig the cult of the League but I'd be just as well trying to dig the Cult of Sol Invictus. Gnosticism aside, this one goes way, way over my head. I've watched every episode and it leaves me stone cold. Not a single laugh. Not a hint of a guffaw or a titter.

On this occasion the League's genuine cultural enthusiasm had strayed a little too far into self-indulgence. As the series credits rolled for the last time, one was left hankering for one final sketch or joke.

A walk on the weird side

What apparently originated as sketches has here been opened out and adroitly blended into the bizarre mise en scene of Royston Vasey, but as the series goes by, individual sketch episodes might be increasingly difficult to shoehorn into this overall scenario. But for now the League is a big hit: Sarah Smith's production is first-rate and Joby Talbot's weirdly catchy music sets the whole thing off nicely.