Robert Lindsay seems to loathe playing Ben Harper

Robert Lindsay muses: "It's strange how the things that I've enjoyed doing least in my career seem to have been the most successful, while the stuff I've really liked doing hasn't done so well."

Here's a quick turnaround. The first transmission of Alistair Beaton's comedy serial finished only recently. Still, I don't suppose they can't often afford a cast as glittering as this so why not make the most of it? Never mind that I think it's shouty, overacted, clattering with clichés and probably originally intended for TV. See what you make of its battle for a newspaper's soul between traditional hack (Robert Lindsay), wily editor (Alex Jennings), assorted nasty females and posh Freddie (Ben Willbond) who's pretending to be a Rasta.

A deservedly rapid repeat for this new sitcom which take a satirical look at the changing world of modern journalism. Robert Lindsay is on top form as the jaded print hack who rails against user-generated content, Twitter, video blogging and the like. Let's hope a second series comes soon - and a television transfer shouldn't be ruled out.

We're nearing the end of this six-part satire on newspapers. It's by Alistair Beaton, one of the sharpest wits around, with wonderful Robert Lindsay as the veteran who still prefers a story to a marketing campaign. I keep wondering why I don't like it more. It seems to me, because it has so much shouting and situation explaining, to have been written for TV but has ended up on radio rather than waste a decent script about things that matter. Today's is about whether to publish an embarrassing story about the Prime Minister. I'll listen.

Having worked in newspapers since the days when computers were new-fangled, I feel well qualified to assess whether the new comedy series Electric Ink is up to the mark in its observations on the press, in the throes of an unprecedented crisis. As it happens, the writer, Alistair Beaton, is spot-on, capturing the rising panic of an endangered species.

Robert Lindsay is reporter Maddox Bradley, a careworn fossil from the days of high ideals and long liquid lunches who's resisting attempts to drag him on to the web, said to be newspapers' last-best hope.

"We've become obsessed with making the online edition," he rants in fine style to the news editor. "We've forgotten that it's quite important for a quality national daily to have content. I'm sorry, but it comes as no surprise to me that fewer and fewer people are willing to shell out a pound for a double-page sofa ad, a free DVD and a full-colour wallchart displaying 50 varieties of asparagus." Ouch.

He proceeds to explode the website's lead story about a new stress disorder, exposing it as a drugs industry plant. The online editor is carpeted for rehashing press releases. "But I do it all the time," he says. Double ouch.

The daily conference is nicely done, too. The editor complains about that morning's wallchart. "Come on, people: dinosaurs, newspapers - must we remind the readers?" Double ouch and ouch again.

In Michael Frayn's classic novel about Fleet Street, Towards the End of the Morning (1967), there is a memorable hack who rivals a sloth, doing no work from one week's end to the next. Alistair Beaton, once a speechwriter for Gordon Brown, is writing in the same tradition but satirising a new era. Electric Ink - about a newspaper's struggle to go digital - cannot compete with Frayn's genius but made me laugh none the less.

I was aware, too, of the serious question underlying the mirth: whose side are we on? Do we support Maddox (played with magisterial pomposity by Robert Lindsay), a vain, old-school hack who has just written a long (and, according to his news editor, "tedious") piece about a radical Muslim cleric? Or do we back charming twentysomething Freddy (a hilarious Ben Willbond), who speaks in a vivaciously streetwise way and turns out to be an Etonian trying to live down his education?

Freddy is new-media-savvy while Maddox sneers at the phrase "embracing the digital age", maintaining that a handshake is as far as he is prepared to go. Yet, at the end of the first round (with five to follow), it is Maddox - to my astonishment - who, in his stubborn, devious, old-fashioned way, seems to be winning.

Ever the investigative journalist, he discovers that Freddy's story on a new plague ("Generalised Affective Social Stress Disorder") is as bogus as its author - not worth the screen it is printed on.

When you need a splenetic old-codger role, then put a call in for Robert Lindsay. Nobody does it better, as he proves in Alistair Beaton's satire on the parlous state of the daily newspaper industry. (Lindsay and Beaton have been teamed before, in A Very Social Secretary, about the Blunkett affair.) As wily old hack Maddox, he rails in protest against the tide of sexy online editions, fluffy celebrity-led stories, the obsession with new media, and endless marketing ploys. "I'm sorry, but it comes as no surprise to me that people aren't willing to shell out a pound for a double-page sofa advert, free DVD, and a full-colour wall-chart displaying 68 varieties of mushroom." Couldn't agree more, old bean. To be generous, there is more than a touch of Drop the Dead Donkey about this, but the back-up characters are sometimes mere one-shot jokes, the exception being Alex Jennings's gloriously pragmatic and priapic editor, Oliver. Don't miss his When Harry Met Sally turn in the second episode. If you do, you can always listen to it online!

Big Robert Lindsay and Zoe Wanamaker Interview

As the BBC sitcom reaches its 100th episode, Robert Lindsay and Zoë Wanamaker explain why playing sweet can be hard work. After various run-ins the stars became concerned about the consistency of the writing. There were even times when they refused to perform because they were so unhappy. This was not just a one-off either, Lindsay adds. "There is some real dross in there and we are aware of it," he says. "We had many fights. Out of 100 episodes maybe we've done ten that you can say are really good shows."

Zoe Wanamaker and Robert Lindsay star in this fun family sitcom, now in its ninth series. The most popular comedy of recent years, this series about the doings of a middle-class family in Chiswick has been trundling along for the best part of a decade.

You know just where you are with this sitcom. The gags are set up and knocked down with metronomic precision; the characterisations are as subtle as a sledgehapper; the laughter comes right on cue; and there's nothing too risque - unless you find the odd sexual innuendo offensive. In fact, it's so middle-of-the-road that you can almost see the white line painted down it.

The only surprise is that there's no sign of Zoe Wanamaker in this first episode of the new series (apparently Susan is staying with her mother). Responsibility for generating the laughs, therefore, lies mainly in Robert Lindsay as Ben Harper who gets into an argument at a pub quiz.