Jeremy Kyle awkwardly interrupts Bill Bailey's touching Sean Lock tribute

Time delay made the interruption even harder to watch.

Matt Forde interview

The political comedian on the lunacy of Labour, being marooned with Nigel Farage, and why he loves Jeremy Kyle.

More Punch and Judy politics as the would-be satirical puppet show continues. Newzoids may never escape the shadow of Spitting Image but it doesn't skimp on the sketch count, rattling through character assassinations, pop-culture mashups and song parodies at a fair old clip. If the political material sometimes lacks bite, at least the writers are taking advantage of the material at their doorstep: when it's skewering ITV's own Ant & Dec, Broadchurch or Jeremy Kyle, Newzoids generates an appreciable transgressive charge.

Ha, Black Mirror (Channel 4)! Like The Hunger Games plus The Truman Show plus The Gadget Show plus Jeremy Kyle plus Big Brother plus Dawn of the Dead plus Shaun of the Dead plus Groundhog Day plus a lot of morons with phones, all snorted into Charlie Brooker's head where it can fester and go off a bit and gather darkness ... before getting vomited out - projectile vomited - on to the screen.

I actually preferred the first one. It was more human, and felt more of an individual drama in its own right. This is more brutal and bleaker. Nastier. And still probably about the most imaginative television around right now. A big blinding flash of futuresplat.

A revamped Room 101, with a tinder-dry Frank Skinner stepping bravely into Paul Merton's shoes and playing a blinder, is a winner in its new format, having all three guests there simultaneously, and categorised rounds. Robert Webb roughly won, mainly by sending Jeremy Kyle - goodness but there were some worrying clips - into the masher, though Danny Baker, with his honestly newfound if existentially confusing hatred of TV panel games - "just a Jeremy Kyle show that's been though college" - was the true hit. That's not the point. This is. During the titles of this programme, which if you've forgotten is about things we all hate, up popped the phrase "unexpected item in baggage area".

The format has been revamped. Frank Skinner is in the chair and, rather than chance the quality of an edition on a single guest, they've spread their bets across a panel of three, with Skinner determining which of their peeves - growing up, film and TV, etc - will descend into Room 101. There's a less whimsical, slightly harder edge to the guests' critiques; Danny Baker rails against "cool" with a written, prepared text dripping with bile, Robert Webb lays into Jeremy Kyle with undisguised scorn and even Fern Britton has a go at the homework heaped on today's kids.

Robert Webb wants to put Jeremy Kyle into Room 101

Peep Show star Robert Webb has revealed that he can't stand Jeremy Kyle and his "bear pit" show.

Watching television that makes you cringe can be inspirational - if you work as a comedian that is. Kevin Bishop was sat at home one weekend and caught Noel's HQ on Sky1.

This series was full of stories about people who'd been ripped off or mutilated or were desperately ill. Edmonds and the team would sort their lives out and, in publicising the show, noble Noel called upon the public to take matters into their own hands and help fix broken Britain.

Bishop felt a stirring in his funny bones. What if he were to meld Mr Edmonds with another TV host who was there to right the wrongs of "ordinary people" - by which, of course, he meant Jeremy Kyle. Working with comedy producer extraordinaire Bill Dare - the man behind such successes as Dead Ringers, The Now Show and Spitting Image - they created Les Kelly.

"He's a complete idiot," explains Bishop of his creation. "He's very right-wing, has lived an entirely sheltered lifestyle and he really wants to put right everything that he sees as being wrong in Britain."

The result is this superbly observed comedy, driven by strong character performances, at the centre of which is the utterly flawed Les Kelly. To say there is something of Alan Partridge about Les is a heartfelt compliment.

This series deserves to be huge. Don't miss it.

Danny Robins' Music Therapy is a new show described as a sort of Top of the Tops meets Trisha. Here was an opportunity for Robins, along with guests Isy Suttie and beatbox champion Beardyman, to solve both listener and world problems through the therapeutic qualities of music. 'Think of me as a melodic Jeremy Kyle,' suggested Robins, but without 'the latent sense of evil'.

Some of the most amusing sections in this, the first of four programmes, occurred when Robins went out and about hoping to administer his particular style of musical medicine to hard done by members of the community. These included abused traffic wardens and fishmongers feeling the effect of the credit crunch - for the latter, Robins set himself up as an in-store DJ presenting Radio Fish Shop. Suttie's clever song 50 Ways to Sack Your Cleaner, aimed at middle-class housewives who could not bring themselves to let the 'help' go, was another highlight.

Robins' personable style and natural comic talent, paired with a good script, created some genuine laugh out loud moments.