Fans bid a final farewell to The Thick Of It

Simon Pia, former top spin doctor for ex-Scottish Labour leaders Iain Gray and Wendy Alexander, says he has noticed an increase in political press officers adopting the mannerisms of Tucker.

Though its fourth season has been its least impressive, Armando Iannucci's political satire will none the less go down as one of the best ever British comedies: sharp and cynical. Tonight, after last Saturday's excellent Leveson and Chilcot-inspired special, it finally bows out, with an instalment overflowing with delicious duplicity and inventive insults - not least from Malcom Tucker (the ever-wonderful Peter Capaldi) who gives Ollie Reader (Chris Addison) a hilarious dressing down.

The episode picks up with the Home Office having cut police numbers, which in turn has created a huge backlog of arrest paperwork. Cleverly, however, they've managed to shift the blame onto the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship for the burgeoning queues at police stations. "I doubt there are any major criminals on the loose," says Phil Smith (Will Smith). "This is about paperwork; it's not Con Air." Elsewhere, Dan Miller (Tony Gardner), at Malcolm's suggestion, is sent on a fact-finding mission to a police station in an attempt to make the Government look unresponsive. To say any more about the plot would give too much away, but viewers can expect a climax that is as poignant as it is amusing.

Chris Addison: Fuckety-Bye To All That

And so at last we come to the end of The Thick of It. The very end.

The Thick of It: good news, minister, the show is over

The stars, writers and producers tell the story of the award-winning political satire which made a household name of spin doctor Malcolm Tucker and ends on Saturday.

The weekend's viewing: The Thick of It, Sat, BBC2

It was both very funny and also the closest thing we've had to serious political drama on television for far too long.

If ever there was a political panto ripe for sending up, then surely it's the so-called independent inquiry. And, in an hour of gloriously seat-squirming, self-serving comedy, The Thick Of It nailed it.

'You don't get in this room without bending the rules, that's the way it is,' the spin doctor's spin doctor Malcolm Tucker baited the panel, one of whom had to absent herself following revelations in the press.

Attack has long been Tucker's first line of defence and here he pulled the rug from under a process riddled with hypocrisy.

This was political farce played to perfection, The Thick Of It's prime suspects contributing to a kaleidoscope of evasion that felt all too real. The soundbites had it, with Tucker on head of press Terri Coverley: 'She wants a pension more than Richard Hammond wants a punch in the face,' hitting home best of all.

So where did it leave us? At the mercy of 'a political class that has given up on morality and pursues popularity at all costs'. That this was Tucker's parting shot - the moral compass set by the world's most cynical man - was genius.

Iannucci accidentally leaked Thick Of It episode

Armando Iannucci has admitted on Twitter that he accidentally linked his followers to a full episode of The Thick of It.

TV review: The Thick Of It deep in inquiry soup

Without the swear words, it proved that Tucker's uniqueness is not just down to his very blue syntax, as Peter Capaldi wrung every fibre of expression out of his rubber face in a tour de force performance, for which Bafta must surely come a-calling.

Spectacular and embarrassing U-turn time. At the start of this series of The Thick of It (BBC2, Saturday) I said it had lost its way, and wondered if Armando Iannucci had, what with all his other projects such as conquering America, taken his eye off it. To be fair to me, that first episode was weak.

Since then it has been patchy, with highs and ... not exactly lows, but kind of so-so middle grounds. Nearly all the highs have come when the opposition (Tucker, Murray, Reeder etc) has been under the spotlight.

This one, an hour-long Hutton/Leveson-type inquiry into Mr Tickel's death and practices in politics, all set in one room, is something different. Not just sparkling, but also tense and claustrophobic. I even felt a bit moved, seeing Malcolm Tucker on the ropes for the first time, a fallen despot. And it's so very real - it basically is Leveson, just with characters from TTOI in it. Satire at its very very best, a brilliant piece of television.

Armando Iannucci and his A-Team of writers serve up a surprise this week: a one-off, gift-set edition that's a different beast altogether from what we're used to. In place of the usual sweary farce, we get dry satire, set entirely at hearings for a public inquiry into the death of Douglas Tickell, the health worker whose suicide has dogged DoSAC ministers and flunkies throughout the series.

The exchanges are skilfully done, mocking the etiquette of Leveson-type inquiries, where a quaint legalistic process ("If you would turn to tab 16...") tries to fathom the mad scramble of ministerial politics.

To start with, you may miss the mad scramble and its belly-laughs a bit, but this has great moments. There's Peter Mannion struggling to appear politically correct, Stuart Pearson talking guff ("I believe in government as a transceiver, yeah?") and Malcolm, still cobra-deadly without his usual profanities, and all the more dangerous when he seems to be cornered.

But it's fragile aide Robyn who returns to deliver the damning verdict on her political masters: "To be honest, I think they're just trying to get through the day without cocking up."