The WI drug lecture was easily the funniest part of Jam & Jerusalem. In a wonderfully unselfish performance, Hazel John as Pauline delivered her talk with the passion of a florist describing how to assemble a seasonal bouquet. "Jeannine from the Spar has let me have her bongo or bong, and this spoon, and there's rolling papers 'ere for us to have a go," she droned. Her audience carried on gossiping about the barn conversion at the back of Sal's garden, allegedly being carried out for Charles Dance. The name Charles Dance soon trumped every argument - he had been so good as Ivory Merchant "in the film of that name" - and no rumour about the protesting Sal was too scurrilous to be believed.

Content - ie, tales from a sluggish, genteel rural community where nothing much happens - determines this series's form and nearly seals its fate. Now stitched into a whole hour, Jam & Jerusalem on its return felt a bit long and a bit slow, but I seem to remember it did at 30 minutes too. What saves it, are the surrealist touches and, actually, Dawn French, whether she is dumbly suckling a lamb or mischievously barping out the EastEnders theme when a mini bombshell of news explodes in the pub. The question is whether Jam & Jerusalem could be funnier without looking as though it were trying to be funnier and thus spoiling the whole, nonchalant, thing.