The Thick Of It review: No Malcolm, No problem

Don't be put off by the lack of Tucker and co. The Thick of It is still as sharp as ever...

The Thick of It? George Osborne is beyond satire

When I think of what the Treasury has been up to, the daily unravelling at DoSAC looks like an exercise in political mastery.

Armando Iannucci: BBC should fight back against critics

Thick Of It creator Armando Iannucci said British television suffered from 'consistent cack-handed interference by politicians goaded by the press'.

An equalities minister who has voted against racial and sexual equality rights. Chuckle. A health secretary who supports homeopathy. Ha! It's good, this politics malarkey, isn't it? A right giggle. Some might think it beyond parody. But thankfully not The Thick of It crew, who, three years after its last series, returned last night with an eagerly awaited fourth to take on the calamity coalition.

First, the good. In fact, the excellent. Roger Allam as the Tory MP Peter Mannion, new head of Dosac - the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship - fills the role perfectly. The floppy hair, the floundering as he tried to explain a "networked nation" that was beyond him, the barely concealed contempt for those he works with ("I'm bored of this," he said, walking out of a meeting with his junior minister. "I'm going for a Twix") and those he works for. ("I hate schoolchildren. They don't even have the vote. Might as well talk to fucking geese.")

Then there's the spin doctor Stewart Pearson, a lighter touch than attack dog Malcolm Tucker, all herbal teas, brainstorming and, in the words of Mannion aide Phil Smith, provider of "seven years of ear piss".

That Tories and Lib Dems might not get on behind closed doors has been the subject of satire ever since this bastard child of Westminster was conceived in May 2010, but it was moved on here to good effect. It reveals the flaws in the central characters and allows for the best line of the night, uttered by Ben Willbond as Lib Dem No 2 Adam Kenyon. "Landmark day," he said as Mannion finally destroyed the launch of the Liberals' "silicon playgrounds". "We bring in an idea, you like it, you nick it, you put two bullets in the back of its head. Snuff politics: you've got to laugh." And you did, you really did.

Yet not everything was quite so sparkling. Punchlines were occasionally heavy-handed and the ranting felt sometimes forced. Consider Lib Dem junior minister Fergus Williams's tirade at punchbag press officer Terri Coverley: "Now you like musicals. Well this is 'Tonight' from West Side Story, and I'm going to bring the bloody house down, so you can't rain on my parade, Funny Girl." Too contrived. Maybe that was the point, but it made you pine for the eloquent misanthropy of Peter Capaldi's expletive-fuelled Tucker. Luckily, he's back in episode two...

The Thick of It, Series four, BBC Two

New series of Armando Iannucci's political satire sets its sights on the coalition.

It was brave of creator Armando Iannucci to start a new season of The Thick of It (Saturday, BBC Two) without his expletive-spewing spin-doctor Malcolm Tucker (Peter Capaldi). It was the equivalent of hoping that no one would notice if an episode of Fawlty Towers featured only Manuel, Sybil and Polly. But fear not, Tucker/Basil will appear in the second episode, as was made clear when the producers lost their nerve and included a "next week" trailer featuring him.

In this new series, the Tories, though never named as such, were the senior partners in a Coalition - and I don't know whether it was deliberate, but the Lib Dem characters were instantly forgettable.

Given that a neologism from The Thick of It was used by Ed Miliband to describe George Osborne's budget - "omnishambles" - Iannucci must feel that modern political life is copying his satirical art a little too assiduously. It might explain why his usual brio seemed to be lacking in the opening scenes.

Where were the effortless similes and casual insults? It even seemed to borrow a scene from the film Anchorman in which its dim news presenter tries to join in a conversation about love, but can't think of any examples so randomly names things he can see. I love carpet. I love lamp.

These proved to be teething troubles and it got into his stride when Roger Allam as Peter Mannion MP struggled through an excruciating and pitch perfect press launch for "Silicon Playgrounds", the Coalition's digital youth policy. After that the confidence seemed to return. My favourite line came when No 10's loquacious spin-doctor said: "What was that word I used this morning?" Mannion replied: "You used a lot of words this morning. It was like a ----ing Will Self lecture."

We have proof that The Thick of It doesn't, always, need Malcolm Tucker. He's not back until next week, in mournful bored opposition.

Meanwhile, the coalition is being eviscerated on screen as cruelly as in real life. Tory Roger Allam's stuttering, excruciating few minutes before a crowd of tech-wise schoolchildren - he's a happy Luddite but to others a "digitard", a word which will become as useful as "omnishambles" - is equal to any other three minutes of comedy this year.

And a fellow Tory lambasts Lib-Dem colleagues thus: "You're basically a couple of homeless guys we've invited to the Christmas lunch... don't whinge when we don't let you carve the turkey." Somehow, this week in particular, this resonates. Too many good lines to fit in even an entire piece; too much happy brilliance.

Why The Thick of It is safe comedy

The series may have provided some memorable lines, but it's done little more than pander to our prejudices about politicians.

The Thick Of It makes a welcome, belated return for what looks to be its final series. The Coalition are now in power and Peter Mannion, introduced in Opposition as an old-school wet Tory with a distaste for modern politics, is now in office, alongside a thrusting young Lib Dem. The civil servants are the same (as, confusingly, is advisor Glenn, who seems to have conveniently switched parties between series). And the fearsome Malcolm Tucker: well, he's out, leaving an anger - and swearing - vacuum.

Tucker and the hapless Nicola Murray reappear in the second episode, but even there he's a muted version of himself and the show seems softer, less scabrous without his manic presence. Which is probably completely deliberate: creator Armando Iannucci seems to have rethought the show's satirical emphasis as well as the new political framework. The politicians on both sides seem almost vulnerable, but so do their advisors, none of them really having any clue about what they're doing anymore.

It's still very, very funny and the cast are all perfectly pitched. Roger Allam, as Mannion, has such delicious comic timing that a simple line about a Twix made me rewind three times just to savour it again. One could quibble with the sheer amount of vituperative nicknames that the characters hurl around at each other - you have the impression that they must all be sitting up at night drafting new ones for the next day - but at least they make sense, unlike their policies.

TV review: The Thick Of It

There's no escaping it: this opening episode to the fourth (and probably final) series of The Thick of It, one of the smartest, funniest British TV shows ever made, is - whisper it - disappointing.