The BBC has launched its Grey Expectations season, dedicated, as they mistily phrase it, to "the twilight years". Eighty-seven-year-old Liz Smith goes on a cruise. George Melly and John Mortimer are resurrected. And, keeping the theme alive, if that is the word, Susie Dent explains in Radio Times the meaning of the phrase "to kick the bucket". (Do not read this if you are fond of pigs.) Comfort yourself with the thought that you have the last laugh. You don't have to pay a TV licence.

The season started with Getting On (BBC4), a comedy set in a geriatric ward, which happily proved excellent. It is shot in documentary style by Peter Capaldi. All colour is leached out of the ward except a haze of institutional blue. Voices, almost ad libbing, overlap.

The patients seem set, with some spirit, on dying despite the apathetic efforts of the staff. These are Nurse Kim Wilde (Jo Brand), the lowest form of life on the ward after the lino, Sister Flixter (Joanna Scanlan), drowning in paperwork, and Dr Pippa Moore (Vicki Pepperdine), a masterpiece of tinny insincerity. Dr Moore's real passion in life is her collection of faeces ("There is a faecal deposit on that chair." "I'm on top of that"). These three wrote the script ensuring a fair supply of jokes per person. Matron is a martinet of the old school, except he is a man. And horse sense is in inverse ratio to seniority.

The first patient out of the trap is Lily, who dies on her 87th birthday as Sister Flixter is holding her hand and chuckling over her mobile. She leaves behind a large coffee cake baked by her sister, Connie. "Do you think she really wants to have her dead sister's cake back?" asks Nurse Wilde, slavering slightly. "Oh, I'm sure she does. She'll enjoy that with a cup of tea later," says Sister Flixter, fairly firmly. Connie, however, proves elusive, and they are polishing off the cake themselves when a pale, defeated face appears in the glass of the door. A Connie if ever I saw one. Sister Flixter breaks the sad news through a hail of cake crumbs, and Nurse Wilde offers a glass of water, hiding her own slice of cake behind the door jamb. It is what Lily would have wanted. Probably.

It turns out that the old Asian lady, chattering incessantly, is saying, "I want to die. Please kill me", and the nicely spoken lady with terminal MS is looking forward to a holiday in Zurich. "Oh, that's a lovely city. You'll enjoy yourself there," said Dr Moore with shining insincerity - before doing a double take and making a panic-stricken call to Dignitas.

Curiously, it reminded me of Dinnerladies, which Victoria Wood wanted shot as this is: naturalistically. It is very female and unfazed by death.

Once upon a time, before she became a comedian, Jo Brand was a psychiatric nurse. Now she stars as a nurse in an old people's ward in Getting On, a comedy with a resolutely dark heart. It was directed by Peter Capaldi and the hand-held camera, jitteringly close to the action and people's responses, reinforced the same uneasy, quease-making intimacy the technique also gave to The Thick of It, in which Capaldi played the foul-mouthed spin chief Malcolm Tucker.

Just as The Thick of It exposed political corruption, Getting On revealed the daily reality of cutbacks and petty bureaucracy now blighting the NHS. A turd sat on a chair for almost the entire duration of the show, first because a specialist turd-removing medi-testing outsourced company needed to clear it, and only then because the turd was being used as part of a vital research exercise to secure funding for the hospital. The staff struggled and failed to understand a woman speaking in a foreign accent. There were piercing notes to the character portraits: the ward sister was neurotic and ineffectual but also heartbroken. For all her dead-eyed scorn of her seniors, Brand seemed nice about the patients, until she ate the cake belonging to one dead old woman. She also lifted her family pack of Starburst.

There are some real loud laughs to be had from Getting On, but they aren't comfortable, as this is a black, black comedy set in one of the more decrepit outposts of the NHS. Co-writers and stars Jo Brand, Joanna Scanlan and Vicki Pepperdine are the hopelessly incompetent staff of a pitiful geriatric ward. Brand and Scanlan are nurses rendered almost immobile by their own indolence and stupidity, while Pepperdine is a doctor who can't see her way past politically correct, coy euphemisms, as in "the deceased party" for "dead woman".

Getting On bears the fingerprints of The Thick of It, and not just because Peter Capaldi directs. It has the same ruthlessly naturalistic, documentary feel as its mighty predecessor and leaves the same lingering feeling that beneath the humour there's something very serious going on.

This is followed by Jo Brand's superb new comedy, Getting On. Set in the geriatric ward of an NHS hospital, it is centred around four brilliantly observed members of staff - a nurse newly returned to the NHS (Jo Brand), a subtly insane nursing sister (Joanna Scanlan), a male matron (Ricky Grover) and a brittle doctor (Vicki Pepperdine). Directed by Peter Capaldi, it is filmed in the verité style of The Office and The Thick of It using shaky cameras and dialogue that sounds overheard rather than scripted. It was the wonderful surprise of the week.

Here's something to savour from writer/stars Joanna Scanlan, Vicki Pepperdine, Jo Brand and director Peter Capaldi (The Thick Of It) - an extraordinarily funny, jet-black three-part sitcom set in a miserable NHS geriatric ward where the nurses are hopelessly bounded by bureaucracy and political correctness. Frighteningly familiar at times - which is surely partly down to the fact Brand used to be a nurse herself before she launched into stand-up.

Peter Capaldi has made virtually no mistakes since Local Hero. His is a CV that screams 'class' louder than someone at a pub quiz tiebreak asked to name Andrew McCarthy's debut film. So it's no surprise that when he turned his hand to directing a sitcom, it's extremely well made. Jo Brand and two less well known actresses play nurses on a medical ward that's overloaded with OAPs. They have to deal with NHS bureacracy which requires them to fill in forms and file faecal matter. It's a cynical, dry and washed through with realism. It is a lot like The Thick Of It, but understandably, and that's not a bad thing.

You really shouldn't laugh. That's what you'll keep telling yourself during the first episode of this dazzlingly low-key new comedy set in a geriatric ward.

But it's no good putting on your politically correct face and sitting there tutting, because this is a relentlessly funny, workplace comedy that is right up there with The Thick Of It or The Office.

Part of the BBC's coyly titled Grey Expectations strand about the joys of ageing, the morbid humour is as black as death itself. Produced on a budget that would barely cover hair and make-up on Ugly Betty, it's written by Jo Brand, Joanna Scanlan and Vicki Pepperdine who also star as the self-interested, bored and incompetent medical staff. To add to its credentials, it's directed by Peter Capaldi, most famous of course as The Thick Of It's explosive spin doctor Malcolm Tucker.

Brand, as everyone knows, used to be a nurse in a psychiatric hospital which must surely account for the way that every horrible detail is so ruthlessly observed. You feel you could be watching a documentary filmed by an undercover C4 researcher with a camera hidden in a bed pan.

As the patronising, brisk, and utterly ineffectual Dr Pippa Moore (obsessed tonight with a poo that has been left on a chair), Pepperdine is absolutely spot-on and instantly recognisable, while the team's joint dealings with a patient who speaks no English are toe-curlingly sublime.

But just remember, you really shouldn't laugh.

London Paper Review

There's a rich vein of comedy to be found in a geriatric ward, but this Jo Brand vehicle has failed to discover it.

Jo Brand takes on the NHS in comedy Getting On

The former psychiatric nurse and comedian draws on her experiences working in mental health for TV series, Getting On.

Jo Brand - I won't do Mock The Week again

"I don't do Mock The Week any more and neither do some male standups I know who have tried it once. We just didn't like the prospect of having to bite someone's foot off before they let us say something."