In a year that saw Sky dominating the comedy world with its nurturing hand and bottomless resources, this lovable, easily distracted sitcom stood out. An offspring from the fertile Little Crackers, the six-part Irish sitcom about a young boy growing up in Boyle in 1989 darted about like a toddler on sweets. Contemporary hits, cartoons and insane cutaways were all employed to hilarious effect, and the switch from sweet to rude was never a queasy one. The IT Crowd and Bridesmaids star Chris O'Dowd co-wrote and co-starred as "Mert'n" Moone's grown-up, imaginary friend.

All too soon this gem comes to an end. Based by Chris O'Dowd on his memories of an Irish smalltown childhood, the star is David Rawle as 11-year-old Martin Moone. What gives the drama its heart is his pairing with O'Dowd as imaginary friend Sean, less an escape mechanism, more a cheery counterpoint to Martin's dysfunctional life.

Alas, it's already time to bid farewell to cute little Martin Moone and his imaginary friend. How we'll miss his impish exploits, hormonal sisters and harried parents. In this pearl of a final episode our hero wrestles with a pivotal moment in every boy's life: leaving primary school. Fans needn't despair though: a second series is already in the pipeline and, for real devotees, there's a behind-the-scenes film featuring cast interviews at 10pm.

The end of primary school and 'a hugely mediocre era' looms for Martin as the first series of Chris O'Dowd's amiable, occasionally inspired sitcom concludes. Martin has a week of pure anarchy in mind: 'burning all the Capricorns', perhaps, or 'shaving naughty words into our beards'. His innate rubbishness precludes such chaos, of course, but imaginary friend Sean (O'Dowd) is on hand to make sure things don't peter out entirely. And Martin's slight haplessness is of course genetic, as confirmed by his parents' attempts to thwart Sinead's exam preparation and thus avoid having to send her to Girl Guide Jamboree. A smattering of wonderful sight gags and light-touch nostalgia complete another charming half-hour; the already-announced series two and three can't come soon enough.

Moone Boy - review

Chris O'Dowd's nostalgic sitcom is a fine mixture of the gently innocent and comedically knowing.

The last nugget of nostalgia sees little Martin Moone gearing up for his final week in primary education. Can he and Sean leave their mark on the school as they bring the "mediocre era" to a close and prepare to become men? Mum and Dad Moone regret their empty promise to let Sinead go to Girl Guide Jamboree if she comes top of the class, so will stop at nothing to scupper her studies. But there's a big bombshell to come as Fidelma, who's been cavorting with Dessie and his Daniel O'Donnell hair, makes a parent-shattering announcement.

Sky1's new comedy Moone Boy is now officially the funniest thing to come out of Ireland since Roy Keane's unconcealable disdain for Adrian Chiles's chummy banter. And having the Sultans Of Ping FC's Where's Me Jumper for its theme is surely the finest use of music since Tony Soprano bowed out to Don't Stop Believin'.

But it's a bit harsh that some people are calling Moone Boy Ireland's way of saying sorry for Mrs Brown's Boys. Mrs B might be crass and smutty but her show does what it does brilliantly. And BBC1's prime-time repeats are still beating allcomers on a Friday.

As for Moone Boy I have a couple of apologies. One, I didn't praise young David Rawle nearly enough for his amazing breakthrough performance as Martin Moone. And two, I failed to clock the name of the hairdressing salon until well into episode two. Scissors Palace. Sure, that's just lovely work.

When our adolescent hero gets hot under the collar at the sight of a topless cartoon on TV and wakes up with damp sheets, he knows something is amiss: has he contracted some sort of groin-based salmonella? Even more worryingly, his imaginary friend (Chris O'Dowd, the real star and joker behind this endearing comedy) has disappeared. Cue an excruciating scene in which Dad - who really does look ill - has to explain the birds and the bees while Mam looks on, cringing. It's a gag as dated as the 80s backdrop but no less funny for it.

Many men of a certain age will fondly remember the frisson provided by Argentine tennis player Gabriela Sabatini. She's here tonight as this charming comedy-drama continues and Martin (the excellent David Rawle) starts 'flying the fleshy flag' during afternoons spent slumped in front of Wimbledon. Elsewhere, the return of cool Uncle Danny from a tour of duty as The Edge's plectrum roadie casts the house into turmoil; Liam's jealous while Martin is sufficiently spellbound to disown Sean. Cue a wonderfully inventive little scene in which Sean drowns his sorrows - alongside a wrestler and a cowboy - in a pub for rejected imaginary friends. It's a perfect encapsulation of a series that continues to be disarmingly sweet but never remotely sickly.

Chris O'Dowd's comic re-imagining of his childhood in Ireland sees Martin (David Rawle) ditch his imaginary friend Sean (O'Dowd) when Uncle Danny (Steve Wall) pays a visit to the family home. Danny is the cool one in the family - he is a musician who has busked around Europe and once worked with U2 - and it's he Martin turns to for advice on dealing with the opposite sex. The ostracised Sean, meanwhile, consoles himself by hanging out with some of Martin's other forgotten imaginary friends, including Crunchy Danger Haystacks (Johnny Vegas).