Witless is BBC Three's first brand new comedy since they made the move online. Just like BBC Three's other big comedy Cuckoo, Witless has a surprisingly old-fashioned premise for a show that's supposedly trying to attract the under-thirty crowd. The story sees mismatched flatmates straight-laced Rhona (Zoe Boyle) and the outrageous Leanne (Kerry Howard) forced into witness protection after seeing a gangland shooting first hand. The majority of the comedy is derived from the fact that Rhona was just about to move out from the flat that she and Leanne shared due to her not being able to stand her any more. So now she's forced to spend a lot more time with Leanne, doesn't sit well with Rhona neither does the fact that the flat they're given by the Witness Protection scheme is even more down market than the one they shared before. Whilst the Witness Protection situation couldn't have come at a worse time for Rhona, Leanne sees it as an opportunity to reinvent herself. Going off script almost instantly, she introduces herself with several different pseudonyms throughout the course of the episode and also tries to find romance with the mysterious Patrick (Samuel Anderson). Writers Joe Tucker and Lloyd Woolf make sure to the audience realise that there is a real threat on the girls' lives by introducing two young gangster characters who have been tasked with wiping them out. The final part of the opening episode sees Leanne save Rhona from being killed in a strip club and in the process the two finally realise that they can rely on each other. In my opinion Witless does have a lot going for it from an intriguing premise to the energy and enthusiasm of the two lead actresses. At the same time it is a little rough around the edges and I found that the two young hoodlums who are on Rhona and Leanne's tails have been written in quite a clichéd manner. On the upside Boyle and especially Howard seem to be having fun with the show and the pair share an awkward chemistry which lends itself well to the relationships their characters have. My personal highlights of the first episode were the Witness Protection self-help videos hosted by John Inverdale as they were perfectly pitched. If BBC Three are smart they'll post extra videos featuring Inverdale on their website as I do feel these may draw people to watch full episodes of Witless. Though it's far from perfect, Witless at least shows promise and even during the script's weaker moments I thought that Boyle and Howard's winning chemistry and enthusiasm was enough to see me through.

The trailers for Count Arthur Strong made it appear as funny as John Inverdale's objectionable analysis of Wimbledon champion Marion Bartoli. However, appearances can be deceptive.

Though it's saddled with an awful laughter track, the button lent on at random intervals, Count Arthur Strong - the character and the sitcom - is hewn from the great British tradition of eccentricity. It's not bending over backwards to appear wacky, it's genuinely strange.

This means parts are very funny while other moments - to borrow the catchphrase of angry cafe owner Bulent, the pick of the supporting cast - are 'what the flip?' But there were three or four laugh-out-loud moments in its opening episode, a rare thing for a British sitcom.

Count Arthur Strong is played by co-writer/creator Steve Delaney, who delivers every line as if he's about to embark on a bombing mission on the toilet - he keeps a gong to disguise the noise.

Strong is a former comedian, now languishing in obscurity, whose life is filled with oddballs and even odder lines of thought. Into his life stumbles Michael, the son of his ex-comedy partner, researching a book about his dead and not much loved dad. And that's about it for set-up.

It's the interplay between the bravura Delaney and Rory Kinnear, neatly underplaying Michael, that keeps Count Arthur Strong on track when too much weirdness threatens to derail it. There are tumbleweed moments but, with Graham 'Father Ted' Linehan on co-writing duty, there's comedy gold too.

One exchange, when Arthur summed up Michael's life thus: 'And you went on to write books about anal museums,' sweetly struck the comedy spot. Add to that Michael ranting about plurals not needing apostrophes - yay, go Michael - and what you've got is a peculiar treat that lurches from hit to miss and back with peculiar abandon. Give it a go.