If all footage of Tommy Cooper's performances was destroyed and future generations were left with just this drama to try to work out the reason for his popularity, they would be completely stumped.

A heavy drinker, tight-fisted, physically abusive and (on the evidence here at least) not even especially funny, Cooper is an unlikely candidate for national treasure status.

Shameless star David Threlfall delivers an extraordinary performance as the comedian, recreating his act and his patter to an uncanny extent.

But Simon Nye's script, based on John Fisher's 2006 biography, zeroes in on the scandal in his personal life, and his 17-year affair with assistant Mary Kay (Helen McCrory).

Kay first joined Cooper on tour in the 1960s when his wife Gwen, ­nicknamed Dove (Amanda Redman), opted to stay at home with their children.

Cooper never told Dove he'd hired a replacement, and it would take a much more naïve person than me to think a middle-aged male comedian could travel the country with just his attractive female assistant for company and NOT end up having an affair with them.

By the time of Cooper's death on stage on 1984, you've gone right off him. Threlfall, on the other hand, is absolutely tremendous.

No relation to the Simon Nye-scripted ITV offerings from the turn of the millennium, this John Bishop-devised comedy drama peeks behind the scenes of a provincial panto. Radio jock Lewis Loud (Bishop) is preparing for his stage debut while wooing co-starring soap actor Tamsin (Sheridan Smith), while ex-wife Gina has plans to disrupt any backstage harmony. Whatever you may think of Bishop, a cast including Samantha Spiro and (yes!) Chesney Hawkes suggests this may be a decent accompaniment to the annual search for that elusive final Quality Street fudge.

Q&A with writer Simon Nye

A question and answer interview with writer Simon Nye.

BBC continues unabated with its ungodly pact with Will Mellor, cruelly ignoring public demand or opinion. With a Beady Eye song serving as both theme tune and warning to quickly change channel, the Flynn family return for another series of non-jokes and situations that only work if all the characters are stupid. Here, we get supposedly hilarious mix-ups over a poached cod and a bungling burglar. It's written by Men Behaving Badly's Simon Nye, who used to knock out decent ribald comedy with a hand tied behind his back. Here, he attempts to do it with both hands tied.

Men Behaving Badly: Tube Talk Gold

In 1989, Simon Nye wrote a book charting the exploits of two laddish layabouts. Soon, the novel - Men Behaving Badly - had been earmarked by producer Beryl Vertue, who felt it had the potential to become a hit on television. Vertue was correct, but the show's path to success was not an easy one...

Disappointment of the week was the Armstrong and Miller sitcom Felix and Murdo. Written not by them but by "comedy legend" Simon Nye, which should have warned me - didn't he do Men Behaving Badly? Uurgh. It was about thick poshos during London's first (1908) Olympics and could have offered much. Given what the writers of 2012 managed to do last year with an Olympics that hasn't happened - ie make the funniest sitcom of the year - it should have been easy to win at least a smile from this concept. Nope. Scatological without being wittily so. Stereotypical without being wittily so. Um... terrible without having any redeeming features. The paid audience laughed until they stopped. Poor Ben and Xander: I do hope they didn't actually watch it.

Felix & Murdo review

Overall, I really want Felix & Murdo to succeed, so we need to see more and hope Simon Nye improves on this confident but uneven start.

You know that feeling you get when a brand-new sitcom arrives and spends most of its first series wobbling around, trying to find its comedy feet? Well you don't get that here. Simon Nye's pilot feels like an old favourite within seconds: two young gents in 1900s London exchanging smut, anachronisms and posh banter. Put crudely it's Edwardian Men Behaving Badly.

With Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller in the leads, the chemistry is as slick as one of their sketches, but writ large. Felix (Miller) is a banker with a sideline in inventing: he devises a terrifying "electricity toothbrush" and a cash dispenser (a small boy inside dishes out cash); while Murdo (Armstrong) is a cocky toff who takes up the javelin to compete in the London Olympics, hoping to impress Felix's suffragette sister. ("What is all this boats for women nonsense?")

The plot goes a bit loopy but the characters gel, the tone works and the rhythms are up and running. Roll on a full series.

Felix & Murdo review

What mainly goes wrong, is the script. Although Simon Nye's Men Behaving Badly was a decent sitcom when set in the context of the early 90s, many people's attitudes to that type of comedy have changed since then. Unfortunately, all Nye seems to have done with Felix & Murdo is take the Gary and Tony characters back 80 years and give them javelins.