Washed-up comic Rick Spleen returns to our screens tonight, as vain and self-deluding as ever. Spleen is a wonderful portrait of a very modern sort of failure, a man drinking the dregs in the cup of fame, and scowling at the aftertaste (if there's one expression we know Jack Dee can nail, it's the scowl). Rick leads a comfortable life, but his never very stellar career has stalled, leaving him with an inflated idea of his own status, as highlighted in a lovely scene early in this episode, when a newspaper wants to interview his wife Mel for an "at home" profile and Rick assumes they're interested in him, too. The moment where Mel (the excellent Raquel Cassidy) registers Rick's mistake but lets him down gently, is beautifully played - the kind of cruel but well-observed moment the series loves. Rick's tireless efforts to pose as something he isn't are always a blend of funny and excruciating - even when we can see the plot consequences coming a mile off. And the supporting cast are brilliant, from Rick's teenage daughter and her wonderfully dozy boyfriend to the self-important neighbour, who tonight has cause to be alarmed.

The start of a fourth series for Jack Dee's downbeat sitcom, in which his character, the unsubtly named Rick Spleen - a washed-up, cynical comedian - goes around being annoyed by things. He's hardly cast against type: it's essentially Jack Dee playing Jack Dee, so if you like Jack Dee it will go down very well. In this episode, he's trying to write a novel and to persuade his wife Mel (the excellent Raquel Cassidy) to allow a Sunday newspaper to do a feature on them. Good support comes from Spleen's teenage daughter (Antonia Campbell-Hughes).

Back for a new series, Moving Wallpaper is joyously and uproariously funny. Its companion piece, the soap opera Echo Beach, has been axed because the fictional head of ITV drama (played by Raquel Cassidy) said: "It was shit and no one watched it." Faced with the prospect of unemployment, the unhinged producer (Ben Miller) turns to the writer for inspiration.

Having lectured him on the realities of the marketplace ("It's the Simon Cowell era! You either hitch up those trousers and get on board or you ship on out!") he proceeds to kill him, stuff him in the lavatory and steal his idea. At ITV, this creative process is known as banging heads against a wall, blue-sky thinking, running things up flagpoles and shaking dramatic trees. And the idea for the pilot, which will star Kelly Brook, is about zombies. Rarely are viewers given such a privileged insight into the workings of television.

The addictive postmodern parody of the TV producer's world returns tonight, with Echo Beach having been ditched ("it was s*** and no one watched it" declares the knowing script) and with a sense of desperation pervading the office of the callous Jonathan Pope (Ben Miller). After some sublime verbal tennis between the Pope and the icy Head of ITV Drama (Raquel Cassidy), and one ridiculous twist of fate, the gang start work on a new proposition - a bizarre zombie drama called Renaissance. Based on this sizzling start, it looks like Moving Wallpaper will do a fine job flying solo.

If you were to come across Clive Coleman's six-part drama cold, you might think it was a comedy - particularly as that is how it's billed. But there are dark days ahead for amiable nonentity Harry who is shrivelling in the shadow cast by his more successful elder brother Richard. When not jetting out of and back into Bahrain on the company jet, Richard is lavishing rare and precious gifts on their father, Brian. All Harry can offer is his house as a setting for Brian's 65th birthday party - and even then Brian's wife Liz shoulders Harry's wife Jo out of the way when it comes to setting up things properly. But Harry has a chance to reclaim a spark of dignity - the speech he has been preparing for a year, one that will make him the golden boy, if only for an hour. A top cast - Kris Marshall and Raquel Cassidy to the fore - does justice to a fine script.

I had forgotten just how wonderful this series is - albeit wonderful in a deadpan sort of a way. The director Lindsay Anderson said once that the key to success was in the casting, and that is certainly the case here. Tonight, Magda (Anna Crilly), the surly East European help, moves in with the family because 'boiler is leaking gas'. She partitions the fridge like the Berlin Wall and poisons the son with her carthorse sausages, while Mel (Raquel Cassidy) - the wife who usually manages to keep it all together - gets splendidly drunk. I laughed out loud, which woke up my mother-in-law and startled the dog.

Jack Dee's back with a second series of his (written with Pete Sinclair) hugely enjoyable BBC2 sitcom Lead Balloon.

Dee's portrayal of cantankerous, middle-aged comedian Rick Spleen has more than a touch of a media-class Tony Hancock to it - a character whose talent for digging himself into holes is second only to a grave-digger's.

One of the main joys of Lead Balloon is its small cast of supporting characters, comprising Rick's supremely patient wife (Raquel Cassidy), staggeringly vague daughter Sam (Antonia Campbell-Hughes), their permanently unheppy Polish home help Magda (brilliantly played by Anna Crilly) and his far-smarter co-writer Marty (Sean Power).

Even as minor a role as over-familiar local cafe owner Michael (Tony Gardner) is a perfectly formed, fully drawn character.

Every one of them was on top form, producing a just about flawless half hour of delightfully miserablist comedy. Lead Balloon is sure to go down well again this winter.