Is it 1980, again? You could certainly be forgiven for thinking so on the evidence of this dire new sitcom from writer Jimmy Donny Cosgrove, which stars Martin Clunes as Warren, a permanently harassed driving instructor. The strangest comedy hors d'oeuvre for a new Alan Partridge show you will ever see.

TV preview: Warren, BBC One

Somehow though this seems to be catering for an older generation of viewers.

Martin Clunes interview

Martin Clunes on his new BBC1 comedy Warren: 'I love being awful'.

Martin Clunes on why the sitcom isn't dead

The actor returns to BBC One with a comedy about a miserable driving instructor living in Preston.

Martin Clunes pilots BBC One sitcom

Martin Clunes is set to star in his first sitcom since the Reggie Perrin remake.

A starry but sleepy series finale: Doc Martin, review

This ever-popular, televisual equivalent of a hot water bottle returns for a ninth and final series next year. It's so gentle that it could end by simply nodding off.

Doc Martin review

The first five minutes of Doc Martin (ITV, Wednesday) always have a whiff of Casualty (BBC1, Saturday) about it.

Doc Martin (ITV, Wednesday) still is, and at the top of its game. So much so it would put car mechanics out of business. It also has the advantage of only appearing every two years, meaning that the lay off almost makes you forget just how good it was. It's also the only doctor's surgery anyone fancies visiting.

In the opening episode, the Doc was grumpier than ever. For him, this is an "all-life crisis". If he won the lottery, I'm sure he'd throw the ticket in the bin before sticking pins in his eyes.

Does anyone actually behave like this or are they "on the spectrum"? If it is the latter, he's off the scale, but who cares. In real life, you would simply be saying, "Wow, the Doc's hard work. How long do we have to stay?"

To cheer himself up in series eight, he's agreed for wife Louisa (Caroline Catz) to have a dog, which of course, is something else to complain about, and trip over, while banging his head on a low door. If you know a grumpier person than this, please contact a TV company about doing a documentary.

He was ably assisted by PC Penhale (John Marquez) who was told so many times that he was an idiot, I expect an immediate class libel action from the local constabulary to stand up for one of their own.

The village plod was suffering kidney stones: "How often are you passing water?" asked the Doc. He replied: "Bit personal isn't it, Doc?" This prompted the policeman to say, "I'm not an idiot". Oh, yes you are. As the episode closed, Penhale's quest for romance dissolved along with his kidney stones. He seemed more relieved about the latter. Quite right.

Two years Doc Martin's been off our screens and I find, somewhat head-scratchingly, that I've somewhat missed it. A rather welcome fainting lady vicar came to town, and failed to marry dunderhead Joe, and Al's fat dad poisoned everyone, and thus all was back to normal among the usual yahoos and googans of Portwenn.

At heart, despite the clotted-cream fantasies, this still revolves around the Doc and the fact that the problem of living in any paradise, anywhere, will always, surely, simply be people and relationships. At one point, poor Louisa asked her husband, famously filter-free to the point I'm always staggered he passed any GMC screenings, of their son, James Henry: "Do you think he likes me?" Answers the now-peerless Martin Clunes: "Who knows?" A tragedy stuck inside a comedy, as so many fine British comedies have ever been at heart.