Father Figure, Radio 2's latest sitcom about the trials of a modern house husband, written by and starring comedian Jason Byrne, at least jettisoned the usual clattering of crockery and the sound of a front door slamming that invariably points to a semi-detached in Chislehurst. In fact, the family in question were on their way to a wedding and crammed into a hatchback somewhere along the M4.

Byrne was Tom, the put-upon father and husband marooned in the driver's seat fielding questions about when he'll get a bigger car, when they will arrive at their destination, will the vol-au-vents survive the journey and is the bride pregnant. Chief moaner was Mary (Pauline McLynn, better know as Father Ted's Mrs Doyle), Tom's God-fearing mother who couldn't hide her disapproval at her daughter-in-law's decision to hire a cleaner and was a martyr to her husband, Pat, and his failing memory ("you can't even find your way about the house"). Tom's wife, Elaine, was only marginally more reasonable, exhorting her husband to use the hard shoulder to avoid the traffic that had come to a standstill.

Of course, a standstill was required to accommodate half an hour of bickering designed to show the cultural and ideological gaps that remain between the generations. An interminable gag around the word "dogging" ("In the old days of dogging, you'd get a prize for best-dressed," declared Mary) not only underlined the shifting patterns of language but also the way that contemporary comedies, despite acknowledging the variable family set-ups, continue to peddle ancient clichés of dotty old ladies, bossy wives and terminally embarrassed teens.

Imagine the scene: you're trapped in a motorway traffic jam with bickering parents, a wife who does not get on with them, and a surly teenage son embarrassed by you all. The comic potential is obvious and writer and star Jason Byrne does not waste a single word or nuance in getting as many laughs as he can from this cross-generation claustrophobia.

The best lines are delivered by Pauline McLynn, who plays his extremely religious mother. She believes "dogging" to be the proud display of pampered pets, which leads to more double entendres on the subject than is right or proper.

Father Figure (Radio 2, 10.00pm) is a new four-part family situation comedy, written by and starring Irish comedian Jason Byrne. He plays Tom Whyte (a version of himself) with Lucy Montgomery as his wife and a supporting cast of such stars as Pauline McLynn and Dermot Crowley, and others who've become headliners since the pilot of this show went out three years ago.

It's odd for a new sitcom to start with a Christmas special, but The Bleak Old Shop of Stuff has. Clearly the BBC has faith in it.

Perhaps that isn't surprising. Being based on the popular Radio 4 Dickensian sitcom Bleak Expectations is already a good enough start. Throw in a cast of, amongst others, Mitchell and Webb, Stephen Fry, Katherine Parkinson and Pauline McLynn into the mix then you should end up with a wonderful piece of work.

Robert Webb plays Jedrington Secret-Past, the owner of The Old Shop of Stuff, London's leading retailer of miscellaneous odd things. The special revolves around his attempts to pay off a certain debt he owes to evil solicitor Malifax Skulkingworm (Fry) before London's three great alliterative bells (Big Ben, Massive Morris and Tiny Terry) ring in Christmas Day.

Anyone familiar with Bleak Expectations will know the sort of humour to expect. It's silly and unashamed of it. This is the only show to feature such things as a bird known as the tinsel tit, Santa Claus on a crucifix, The A to D of London and a man being arrested for crying. Some critics may think that this programme is too silly, but I say sometimes you need something silly to lift up your spirits.

My only problem with this show is that I'm somewhat perplexed by the fact that they didn't just simply adapt the original Bleak Expectations for television, rather than create a brand new project. Yes, I like Jedrington Secret-Past and Malifax Skulkingworm, but I like Sir Philip 'Pip' Bin and Mr. Gently Benevolent too. I'd love to see them appear on screen some time...

Fans of BBC Radio 4's cult ­Dickensian spoof Bleak ­Expectations will be delightified at the news that Mark Evans has penned a Christmas special for TV.

The Bleak Old Shop Of Stuff - the first of a four-parter - is a brand new story but a very familiar one that's stuffed with those essential Dickensian staples - flinty-hearted lawyers, grubby-faced urchins bursting into song, cobwebby spinsters, suggestive surnames and the spectre of debtor's prison, known here as The Skint.

Robert Webb stars as the kindly Jedrington Secret-Past - owner of The Old Shop Of Stuff. But his hopes for a happy Christmas with his loving family are shattered by the arrival of evil lawyer Malifax Skulkingworm (Stephen Fry), a sinful man in an unusual hat demanding an unpaid debt that will be his ruin.

The cast includes David Mitchell as an exceedingly jolly man, Johnny Vegas (already a veteran of the BBC's adaptation of Bleak House), Katherine Parkinson, Celia Imrie and Pauline McLynn - as well as a small but pivotal role in every sense for young Jude Wright from Sky's recent sitcom Spy.

TV provides the opportunity for the kind of visual sight gags and special effects that radio doesn't and they've really gone to town creating a virtual Victorian London.

Purists might argue that it's funnier on the radio when your imagination is left to supply the pictures, but this still serves up a splendidly silly start to the Christmas week.

Starting from a preposterous premise - Alice and boyfriend Mitch have drug-fuelled sex with gay flatmate Richie; Alice gets pregnant; all three decide to raise baby together - this rambunctious comedy manages to get hearty, and frequently filthy, laughs from its unlikely situation.

The three leads, Amy Huberman, Stephen Wight and Emun Elliott, have the easy rapport of true friends; Wight seems to be channelling Russell Tovey (a good thing) and Huberman is brilliant as the fretful Alice - the fear on her face as she enters a pram shop made me laugh out loud. And look out for Pauline McLynn in the second of tonight's double bill, in a terrific turn as Alice's monstrous mother.

The humour is suitably broad for the subject matter - there are enough drinks, drugs and sex tonight to fuel a Trainspotting sequel - but there are neat gags, and a wonderful bit of physical comedy involving an escalator, a mobile phone and the results of a sperm test.

McLynn: 'For Winnie the rule is: I talk therefore I am'

As a bit of a talker herself, Pauline McLynn finds plenty to say to about playing Winnie in Samuel Beckett's Happy Days.

Shameless star Pauline McLynn quits show

Shameless star Pauline McLynn left her role at the end of last year. Channel 4 bosses have tried to keep the news under wraps, but the revelation that she had left emerged after the actress spoke in interviews of her "difficult year".

The eighth series of Paul Abbott's council-estate drama gathers a little momentum with this second episode. Frank (David Threlfall) is still Awol after his hedonistic stag party, as it turns out with good reason: he appears to have fallen, via his stag misadventure, into a parallel dimension. Back in the real world, Libby (Pauline McLynn) is unhappy with Monica (Annabelle Apsion) for demanding custody of Liam (Johnny Bennett) and baby Stella. Continues every night this week before settling into its weekly Tuesday night slot.

Frank Gallagher is feeling philosophical at the start of a new series of the grubby comedy drama as he quotes "snail-chewer" René Descartes: "I think, therefore I am." But by the end of the episode, the first of five running nightly, we're asking who and, more importantly, where is Frank? It appears he might have been abducted by aliens (there's a cute Close Encounters spoof as he gazes in rapture at his brightly lit mothership, The Jockey pub). As we flash back, Frank (David Threlfall) is preparing to marry nice librarian Libby (Pauline McLynn), a bright, presentable woman who is, for reasons that simply cannot be explained, prepared to hitch her wagon to this singularly revolting specimen of manhood. But the wedding preparations are thrown into disarray when the Gallagher household receives terrible news.