The Thick Of It series 4 episode 5 review

It's all kicking off in Whitehall. The series 4 game-plan becomes beautifully clear in this eventful episode of The Thick Of It...

After this lovely penultimate episode of The Thick Of It (BBC2, Saturday), will everything that's dead in the water be called "Brian Jones"? Of course it will. Nick Clegg, QPR, the economy? All Brian Jones. You could even have a scale, to allow for different levels of going-nowhereness, the Brian Jones index. Maybe.

The Thick Of It: When life imitates sweary art

Political comedy The Thick of It might be satire, but Westminster-watchers have seen many of its fictional storylines come to life. What does this tell us about modern politics, asks Sean Gray, one of the show's writers.

"There goes a tiebreaker in the making: who was Nicola Murray?" says a wag. Poor Nicola (Rebecca Front), her every move dogged by a man dressed as a pork chop, finds herself the target of a torpedo of invective from Malcolm Tucker.

Even for Tucker, this is strong stuff: "You've all the charm of a rotting teddybear by a graveside... you headless frump" is one of the milder insults in a firestorm of abuse as he throws Nicola out of what used to be her office in front of her successor, that suave Dalek Dan Miller.

It's a messy episode that tips into pandemonium when a leaked email sets off a chain reaction.

After a measured start, Armando Iannucci's political farce has really begun to throw its characters into a whirlwind of events, which this week come faster than a DVD of The West Wing locked on x32 speed. Having ousted Nicola Murray in a clinical putsch, a now resurgent Malcolm Tucker relishes a new leadership that can 'stick the boot into those coked-up, cousin-fucking chinless aliens'. The heir presumptive is Dan Miller, once presented as a youthful and polished Blairite (perhaps modelled on David Miliband). His coronation is side-tracked by a series of events that has the entire cast in all its various factions (including the ludicrously dude-ish minor coalition partners) working together in perfect chaos. Meanwhile, Peter Mannion's temper is boiling over; with a couple of members of the public in his office tonight, you feel like the word 'pleb' could burst out of him at any moment.

The Thick of It: lines of the week - episode five

Everybody but everybody is on the verge of meltdown. But did the need to set things up for next week's big finale take the edge off the comedy? Tell us your favourite moments.

Peter Capaldi's comedic monster, Malcolm Tucker, has surely never performed a more ruthlessly cruel demolition job than the gutting he gave Nicola Murray MP on last night's The Thick Of It. 'You have all the charm of a rotting teddy bear at a graveside' is certainly up there with this comedy's best-ever lines.

But I do have some bad news for Tucker: Peter Mannion MP has emerged as the main man this series. He's even started to swear better...

"No smiling. Not even a wee Anne Robinson. The look we're going for should be solemn respect. Like blokes modelling underpants," scolds Malcom Tucker (Peter Capaldi) to his team in this fifth episode of Armando Iannucci's political comedy series, back after a one-week hiatus. Tonight, Nicola Murray (Rebecca Front) and Peter Mannion (Roger Allam) are both on the back foot after the unravelling of the key-worker housing sell-off policy.

Peter Mannion: I hate conference.

What do politicians really think of their annual shindigs? This leaked memo from Coalition minister Peter Mannion to a long-standing Tory friend reveals all...

A return to form at last for The Thick of It. This series has been patchy and disappointing. Basically, the government episodes have been weak, while the opposition one (up to now) was much better. You might have thought the coalition would be a rich source of comedy, but the characters and performances on that side of the house aren't a patch on Nicola, Ollie and, obviously, Malcolm. Laughs are less about situations, more about people, performances, jokes. And writing.

All of which are back to their brilliant best in this second opposition episode. Nicola, on a train, hurtles towards Bradford and political ruin. Ollie, in a hospital bed, a worm without an appendix now, does as he's told, embraces his inner bastard and makes a metaphorical bomb. And up above, Satanic Scottish puppeteer Malcolm Tucker pulls the strings, while projectile vomiting a glorious tirade of bile over everything and everyone. The lines are so good I immediately watched the whole thing through again. Phew, faith restored.