Those masters of the dark arts, the former League Of Gentlemen co-stars Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton, return with a second instalment of their deliciously macabre shorts, the first series of which won best comedy performance at the Royal Television Society awards last week.
Like a Tales Of The Unexpected for the 21st century, each perfectly formed 30 minutes offers a masterclass in storytelling: witty, imaginative, inventive and suspenseful - with a clever twist at the end for good measure.
The six tales are linked by the number nine and in the opening episode, La Couchette, Julie Hesmondhalgh, Mark Benton, Jessica Gunning and Jack Whitehall join Pemberton and Shearsmith on board the sleeper train from Paris to Bourg-Saint-Maurice. They're a motley collection trying to get a quiet night's sleep as the train makes its way across France, but as the sleeping compartment fills up, the chances of that begin to look highly unlikely...
The setting for future episodes include a séance in the grand Victorian villa, a modern-day family get-together, a 17th-century village witch trial and a volunteer call centre, with Alison Steadman, Claire Skinner, Jane Horrocks, Paul Kaye and Tom Riley among the cast. Special mention must go to Sheridan Smith, however, for her performance in next week's offering, The 12 Days Of Christine, a powerful, moving story of one woman's rocky journey through life. It is an absolute gem, one of the best things I have seen on television this year.

For Reece Shearsmith, whose collaborations with fellow writer and actor Steve Pemberton include The League Of Gentlemen] and Psychoville, there's something irresistible about the dark side of life. "Whenever we've tried to do anything lighter, it doesn't feel complete until we've added some darkness", says Reese, who co-wrote Inside No. 9 with Steve. "The tales are not always horrible - but then again, maybe our threshold of what's horrible is very different from everyone else's!"

Their new collection of surreal stories opens in the No. 9 carriage of a sleeper train in France. Jack Whitehall, Waterloo Road's Mark Benton and former Corrie star Julie Hesmondhalgh are among the passengers trapped for one night on a journey that takes a chilling turn.

"The thrill is that viewers never quite know what's happening," says Reece, 45. "Each episode starts with its feet on the ground, and the scenery looks familiar. That's how we lull you. You think: 'I've seen this before' - and then suddenly it turns into something you definitely haven't seen before. We hope that's what makes Inside No. 9 more arresting."

I am still a little worried that Harvey Easter, the indefatigably cheery protaganist of Mr Blue Sky, will someday soon rip the mask of optimism from his face and go on a killing rampage, starting with his live-in son-in-law-to-be. As this young man, a grimestep DJ who is paid in energy drinks and therefore returns to the Easter household at 5am on a Red Bull high, is called Kill-R, it will give Harvey the opportunity to snarl: "Who's the killer now?" as he takes aim.

When I reviewed last year's first series of Andrew Collins' slow-burning hit comedy, I thought Harvey was bound to 'reverse into gloom' at some stage. The second series opened with his entire family kidnapped and replaced almost wholesale by the cast of TV's Outnumbered, but plucky old Harvey just got on with the job of being happy.

So Mark Benton's Harvey, a performance which is an essay in finely nuanced felicity (and how much harder must this be to play than the sobs of a broken man?) didn't falter even though the detached irony of Rebecca Front, last year's Mrs E, was replaced by Claire Skinner bringing with her Tyger Drew-Honey, both from Outnumbered. Skinner is the leading exponent of wringing comedic value out of the middle-class mum, determined never to yell "Because I said so." And I'm sure I'll get used to her in this, but for now I can't imagine her without chiselled-jawed, puppy-eyed Hugh Dennis as the husband who is a perpetual disappointment.

Tyger took over the role of 16-year-old Robbie with aplomb, asking for money to buy fruit - street slang for drugs - while their older child and bride-to-be, Charlie, was played by Rosamund Hanson with a quirkiness heightened by what was either a speech impediment or a plethora of tongue piercings. The darkness in this solidly engineered comedy, it transpires, is not embedded in Harvey's alter-ego, but swirls all around him as he attempts to hold it back like the tone-deaf, out-of-condition superhero he is.

If you thought The Social Network told the definitive story of the birth of Facebook, Vic and Bob have other ideas.

Their film about Facebook's little-known roots in the 1970s is the highlight of another ­unpredictably mental half-hour.

On the receiving end of their surreal ribbing/bullying tonight are Waterloo Road's Mark Benton, the Mirror's own Tess Daly, Chris Packham and the fashionable Alexa Chung.

Conservationist Packham goes along with the joke - even after resident weirdo Angelos ­Epithemiou does ­something very unexpected to a robin.

Even team captain Jack Dee cracks a smile.

But poor Alexa looks like she wishes she'd stayed at home.

She might as well have done too - her contribution here is purely a decorative one.

Mr Blue Sky (Radio 4, yesterday) was billed as a "warm comedy" but as it drew towards its final episode it grew chillier, deeper. Mark Benton starred as the man in the title, husband, father, hopeless salesman with the infuriating habit (I know it's infuriating because I share it) of always looking on the bright "could-have-been-worse" side. His wife is flirting with the builder, his daughter has brought home a nightmare live-in boyfriend, his son has grievances, he loses his job. On top of all that he gets shot in the head then discovers he already has a potentially fatal aneurysm, about both of which he subsequently keeps silent. Funny? Well, yes. Andrew Collins, the writer, understands people. Anna Madley, for independents Avalon, let it be overplayed at first but brought it finally sailing home on a wing and a tear.

New comedy, Mr Blue Sky (Radio 4), is about Harvey Easter, an eternal optimist. He walks to work one morning, and gets shot. "I suppose it's better than being stabbed," he chirrups.

Andrew Collins's comedy makes you smile rather than guffaw, but is full of warm, nicely observed lines. Harvey (Mark Benton) is maddeningly upbeat, and Rebecca Front plays his exasperated wife well. A neighbour repeatedly lights bonfires in the garden ("What are you burning," she yells, "Edward Woodward?"). Harvey looks on the bright side: "At least he's not burning tyres." And relations with his teenage son are improving: "I think he respects me now I've been shot."

Personal Affairs doesn't seem to know what it's supposed to be. Combining elements of comedy, mystery and romance, but without ever being funny, intriguing or romantic, Personal Affairs' heroines are five go-getting gals working as personal assistants in a high-powered City brokers firm.

Episode one introduced itself with a flurry of Ally McBeal-style fantasy sequences, but these quickly and inexplicably petered out once the main characters were established.

Storylines comprising varying degrees of idiocy followed soon after, the most prominent of which was the disappearance of ultra efficient PA Grace which, in my opinion, was a very smart move on Grace's part.

Personal Affairs clearly imagines itself to be frothy fun in the spirit of Sex and the City, but it produces all the effervescence of an autopsy. The acting is pantomime posturing, the script is a wit-free zone and the lead characters chronically underwritten. Even the ever-reliable Mark Benton looks bad in it.

Lark Rise To Candleford was cutting-edge social commentary compared to Clash Of The Santas, the latest in Robson Green and Mark Benton's buddy-bonding adventures as mates Colin and Howie. Come on, you must remember their comedy classic Christmas Lights. No? Lucky you.

This time around the bickering duo found themselves doing battle in the Santa World Championships in Lithuania, which at least offered the sight of turkey bowling, surely destined to be a Setanta special. But what set itself up as a defence of the true spirit of Christmas - Santa's bulging sack screamed Family Values - got buried under an avalanche of stereotypes and misogynistic gags that were about as funny as leftover Brussels sprouts.

Robson Green and Mark Benton star in this Christmas comedy caper. Body shape can play a large part in determining people's talents, so Willie Carson made for a perfect jockey, Michael Phelps is part-fish, and Mark Benton is just right to play Father Christmas. Which annoys Robson Green no end as Mark's asked to represent the UK in Lithuania at a Santa Claus convention. But if you ask anyone - go on, anyone, apart from him, as he's a bit odd - they'd agree Mark fits the bill better. Come on, Robson, at least you've got a natty elf costume to wear... Seasonal fun full of cheer.