Rachel Aroesti

Sara Pascoe: 'My mum has heckled me'

From Would I Lie To You? to the Kappa symbol, the comedian reveals the things she finds funniest.

The funniest thing... Dane Baptiste

From Eddie Murphy to illiterate hecklers, the comedian reveals the things that make him laugh the most.

Black comedy normally draws on a juxtaposition between disturbing subject matter and glib humour. Instead, Will Sharpe's six-part series - set in the shambolic rural home of the Flowers family (played by Julian Barrat, Olivia Colman, Daniel Rigby and Sophia Di Martino) and screening every evening across the week - intermingles its knotty and desperately sad plot with the kind of comedy that litters our lives no matter what state they are in. The heartbreaking and hilarious result sets a new standard for situation comedies everywhere.

The funniest thing... Romesh Ranganathan

From the sound of his own crying to superlative superhero spoofs, the comedian and presenter reveals the things that make him laugh the most.

Series two of Caroline and Caitlin Moran's comedy wraps up with the Garry clan taking a holiday - although Grampy's deceased friend's caravan in Wales turns out to offer little in the way of luxury. Worse still, Yoko is being driven to distraction by reports of environmental disaster, while both Germaine and Aretha are nursing broken hearts. In the portrayal of the latter, the normally all-guns-blazing sitcom proves it is also able to deploy a restrained and melancholic tone - although the gag-rate remains gratifyingly high.

This topical comedy show brings together young British comics, including Dane Baptiste, Ivo Graham, Rhys James, Ellie White and Jamie Demetriou. It feels like a scattershot ensemble, but makes slightly more sense when you learn this is being positioned as a reboot of The 11 O'Clock Show, the late-90s format that helped to shape the current comedy mainstream by employing everyone from Ricky Gervais to Sacha Baron Cohen, David Mitchell, Robert Webb, Charlie Brooker and Robert Popper.

The final round of Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong's comedy has been all about moving onwards, upwards and hopefully not downwards, as the six housemates approach graduation. JP and Kingsley take the coach down to London for interviews, the former on the way to his brother's company, the latter headed to the hallowed ground of 6Music, while Howard tags along in order to scope out the local environs of Ordnance Survey. More perfectly pitched comedy and perfectly pitched drama from this exceptionally good series.

"No one is equipped to review me," says Lee, beginning the fourth round of his standup series. He's joking. Kind of. By now, he's basically Oscar Wilde: it's practically impossible to divine any meaning from his increasingly complex pose. Lee says he adopts a snobbish persona to make people "laugh in spite of me, not because of me". Hopefully, that's not a rare moment of earnestness: this is a show dominated by a commentary on audience reaction, real and imagined, that's unlikely to have anyone in stitches.

Caz and Caitlin Moran's excellent and highly quotable comedy returns to the Garry household for a second series, and 16-year-old Germaine (Helen Monks) is still banging on about her bodily functions to all and sundry. After mum Della (Rebekah Staton) switches off the wi-fi ("I'm not paying £29.99 a month to beam pixels through the friggin' air"), the Garry children slope off to the library, where Germaine's flirting practice leads to the unimaginable: an actual date. She preps for it by dousing her wrists in her own vaginal fluid.

The second episode of Ullman's new sketch show sees a deviant Dame Judi Dench return to wreak more senseless havoc upon an adoring public, a ludicrously practical (in the style of French and Saunders's "stuff and nonsense" ladies) Duchess of Cornwall babysit Prince George, and some middle Englanders become accidental people-traffickers after a trip across the Channel. Ullman is a brilliant mimic, but her subject matter can feel slightly random and the skits are strangely structured, often resulting in no discernible punchline.