Inside No. 9 is magnificent. It is the latest series to emerge from the dark imaginations of Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton, the pair who were also responsible for Psychoville & The League of Gentlemen (with Mark Gatiss and Jeremy Dyson).

Their new series consists of six self-contained, bleakly comic dramas set in six very different No 9s, ranging from a suburban home to a country pile. Like all the best short stories or one-act plays, tonight's episode works with a deceptive and outrageous simplicity. A group of characters are playing a game of sardines. One after the other, they squeeze into a cupboard. Some are partners. Some are engaged. Some are work colleagues. Some have ugly histories in common, and one is a stranger to hygiene. Between them, they cover a wide variety of social backgrounds, sexual orientations and age groups. If a bomb dropped on the cupboard where they were hiding, a good portion of the acting talent in this country would be wiped out.

The high quality ensemble includes Anne Reid, Julian Rhind-Tutt, Katherine Parkinson, Anna Chancellor and Timothy West, all of whom squeeze in alongside Pemberton and Shearsmith. However, this isn't just an inspired set-up performed by a stellar cast, it builds to a macabre and horribly imagined climax.

I've always had a vague idea that Three Men in a Boat, with the participants' interminable discussions of the state of their innards, renditions of unfunny jokes and constant trips to the pub, just wasn't for me. Boys' stuff.

Then along comes a Sparklab production for BBC Radio 4's Classic Serial that leaves me helpless with laughter and admiration. So I recant my former unthinking critique - the kind of thing the book's author Jerome K Jerome was well used to as he declared himself "the best abused writer in England" for a good 20 years after its 1889 publication.

The tale of a trio of under-the-weather Edwardian gents who think a paddle up the Thames will be good for their constitutions is adapted by Chris Harrald and produced by Melanie Harris with a fine attention to detail and an ear for the nuances of a comic literary style.

The glorious prelude to getting afloat - the haphazard packing, the oversleeping, the ineffectual navigation of Waterloo Station - is a cumulative humour attack, as are the thought bubbles about previous comic mishaps, which are worked up into delightful setpieces.

Most striking is how contemporary are the characters' preoccupations. Okay, there are no smartphones, takeaways or hip hop, and J has to visit the British Library to indulge his hypochondriacal tendencies. But his conclusion that he suffers from every condition listed in an A-Z of diseases, barring housemaid's knee - which he finds rather hurtful - will be familiar to many who google their suspected symptoms.

None of the cast - Julian Rhind-Tutt, Hugh Dennis and his erstwhile double-act partner Steve Punt - aims to grab the comic glory or play to the gallery. In fact, they are all rather Pooterish, and, as in the Grossmiths' The Diary of a Nobody, whose protagonist begat that term, the emphasis is on a wryness of tone and a synthesis of apparently unintentional hilarity.

That thin line between stupid and clever isn't always a funny one. The concluding part of Charlie Brooker's would-be non-stop laughfest gets becalmed between metatextual policier spoofing and jokes about bumming. The inventive sight gags that distinguished our first stint with Jack Cloth (John Hannah) and Anne Oldman (Suranne Jones) have been largely sacrificed in favour of exhausting single entendres, while the repetition that begins as part of the joke ends up being plain repetitive.

Which is a shame, as it's always fun watching serious actors (in this case, gnarled mobster Stephen Dillane and uppity politician Anna Chancellor) being very silly. The understandably threadbare plot, by the way, sees Cloth's cover blown and Goodgirl (Chancellor) locking horns with Boss (Julian Rhind-Tutt) over whose running the city of Town. Rather more miss than hit; perhaps Karen Gillan and Adrian Dunbar, lined up for the imminent third series, can revive a concept that's run out of steam rather quicker than we might have hoped.

Chris Morris's scathing satire Brass Eye, Jessica Hynes and Simon Pegg's brilliantly offbeat Spaced, Victoria Pile's gloriously surreal Green Wing - Channel 4, it's fair to say, has reeled out a number of memorable comedies since it launched in 1982. Part of C4's Funny Fortnight, this lively two-hour programme counts down its top 30, as voted for by readers of the station's website. "Rude, radical, and irreverent, over the last 30 years Channel 4 comedy has taken us on one hell of a ride," intones the narrator, with no shortage of hyperbole. Though the tone, of course, is self-congratulatory, there's still plenty to enjoy here, not least the terrific archived footage, which reminds you why these show's have such an enduring appeal. Interspersed with these clips are hilarious insights from an impressive array of talking heads: among them, Tamsin Greig, Sally Phillips, Al Murray, Charlie Higson, David Mitchell, Robert Webb, Julian Rhind-Tutt, Simon Pegg and Jessica Hynes, who says about Spaced: "When I think about all the things I've done, that was the most intense, the most fun, the thing I'm most proud of." One caveat: how did a show as derivative as Star Stories make it on to the list?

Charlie Brooker has said that the original intention of this two-part detective spoof was as a parody of Inspector Morse. What we have now is a comedy with the witty worldplay of The Naked Gun in which the lead cop is almost as screwed up as the criminal he's chasing. Clever casting ensures that the two leads, John Hannah and Suranne Jones, have TV detective series history (in Rebus and Scott & Bailey respectively) and here they play washed-up, alcoholic DCI Jack Cloth and DC Anne Oldman, who has a secret to hide and whose every instinct is inevitably proved to be wrong; there's a nice performance too from Julian Rhind-Tutt as police chief Tom Boss. With every possible joke wrung out of a storyline involving a sword-wielding serial killer there's a sense of overkill, but A Touch of Cloth is still often very funny.

Katherine Parkinson (Mrs Pooter in Radio 4's new Classic Serial, wonderful in Channel 4's The IT Crowd) and Julian Rhind-Tutt (total star, even as the guest on Radio 3's Essential Classics) head a brilliant cast (Jan Francis, Peter Davison, Dave Lamb, Don Gilet) in this new comedy by Eddie Robson. It's about an English village, invaded for study purposes by aliens, the Geonin, who throw a heat cordon around it to stop anyone coming in or getting out. They'll soon learn about the Earthling inborn tendency to resistance.

Sparky late-night comedy from Katy Wix about Ben (Reece Shearsmith), a scientist on a sub-Antarctic island doing a study of the albatross. There's another scientist on the island with him but they don't communicate, so Ben takes to keeping an audio diary. As you can imagine, there isn't much scope for social adventure on this island and Ben is not what you'd call adventurous anyway. But, in a Pooterish way, he is quite funny, even when all he's doing is losing his watch. Also starring Julian Rhind-Tutt and Alison Steadman, produced by clever Tilusha Ghelani.

Julian Rhind-Tutt narrates this in-depth profile of the beloved actor, best remembered for his role as the genteel Sergeant Arthur Wilson in Dad's Army. Friend Michael Palin and Dad's Army co-star Clive Dunn offer fulsome praise, and help dissect Le Mesurier's three marriages and legendary fondness for a tipple (or 10). "It's all been rather lovely" were his final words before slipping into a cirrhosis-induced coma - an appropriate epitaph by all accounts.

Cavity was glitteringly original. Sean Grundy's play was a comedy about adultery, fast, sexy and I'd have said 'edgy' too, if that word hadn't recently been bled of meaning. Here, I intend it to convey going as close as possible to the borders of descriptive propriety while employing sharp wit to induce a slightly shocked delight. Alison Crawford directed a marvellous cast - Julian Rhind-Tutt, Ingrid Oliver and Kerry Godliman - with glorious assurance. Afternoon Play is not often as utterly entertaining as this. Everyone, me included, usually moans about it. Frequently, these days, we must admit we can be wrong. If you missed Cavity, you missed a treat.

Sharp, sexy, surreal yet somehow utterly believable comedy by Sean Grundy. Adrian (Julian Rhind-Tutt) starts an office romance with Kirsty (Ingrid Oliver). He takes her home, thinking his wife, Lucy (Kerry Godliman), is away. But she comes back unexpectedly. Kirsty hides, falls into the cavity wall. One thing leads to another, and she stays. And stays. This brilliantly observed piece is not for those who shy at on-air sex. But for anyone who relishes characters who come to life in a situation which grows around them almost magically, don't miss it.