There She Goes, now returning for its second series, and starring Bafta-winning Jessica Hynes (Emily) and David Tennant (Simon) as parents of a daughter, Rosie (Miley Locke), with severe learning difficulties, is a defiantly dark comedy based on the real-life experiences of writers Shaun Pye and Sarah Crawford, whose own daughter was born with a severe chromosomal disorder. Do not come to this show expecting sweet-hearted platitudes. As before, this series is based in two time zones (Rosie as a toddler and as an 11-year-old), and the couple are sarcastic, frayed, and argue viciously, with Simon considering leaving.

Other series such as The A Word do a great job of featuring life with disabled children, but perhaps There She Goes goes further to convey nerve-shredded family dynamics. When the couple are told that toddler-Rosie has an IQ of 47, but will be assessed again, Simon retorts: "We'll make sure she revises harder." This is a courageous, heartbreaking show, and Locke as Rosie is dynamite.

There She Goes is a triumph, itch-lousy with one-liners, heartache, bathos, curses and much spilt milk, as far from mawkish as, say, David Sedaris is from the language of Hallmark cards.

Shaun Pye's new sitcom exploring his own experiences/trials with his daughter, born with an undiagnosed chromosomal disorder, was gutsily and refreshingly honest, as befits someone who writes for Frankie Boyle (he was also Ricky Gervais's thespy nemesis in Extras). His lines, as delivered by David Tennant and Jessica Hynes - we all knew Tennant could do comedy; few suspected Hynes could do serious: she's a revelation - manage to be both bitter, frustrated, loving to the ends of the Earth and very and occasionally filthily funny. Tennant's Simon can't smack Rosie (Miley Locke), though she is battering an endless hole in the wall with the door handle - seriously, determinedly, rhythmically; it's better than most X-Factor finals. He takes it out on her favourite toy, a hippo, and, my, there's anger there, the beseeching "be normal" anger of a parent of course but, given Rosie's problems, it's like watching an overtuned Stradivarius, one ratchet suddenly turned too tight, and everything will collapse in a welter of discord and broken spruce.

They survive. As people do. They seek advice: most of it, as ever, simplistic and blindingly obvious, to the extent that one sometimes wonders whether the authorities are actually pleased that families might have brains of their own, or are in fact repelled by the very concept. It's a glorious watch.

Reviews: There She Goes; This Country

A TV show can be written with the best of intentions, made with love, commitment and an all-star cast, and yet sometimes this isn't enough.

"Dad, Mum wants you - Rosie's hidden another poo." David Tennant and Jessica Hynes are the loving if beleaguered parents of a nine-year-old with severe learning disabilities, in this new series. It is drawn from the real-life experiences of its creator Shaun Pye, whose daughter was born in 2006 with a rare, undiagnosed chromosomal disorder. Although this is billed as a comedy-drama, the laughs are, like the aforementioned poo, rather deftly concealed amid the tough, very affecting subject matter and performances.

David Tennant - There She Goes interview

The Doctor Who actor plays the father of a child with a disability in a new comedy drama for BBC4.

There She Goes is funnier than it has any right to be

The ups and downs of life with a special needs child.

There She Goes, episode one review

The series doesn't slot easily into any given category, such as comedy, biopic, tragicomedy or drama, but that tends to make it the more intriguing and rewarding as a result.

Review: There She Goes is an important piece of TV

Was BBC Four's new comedy There She Goes funny? No, not really. Was it an easy watch? No, not really. Did I enjoy it? I'm still not 100% sure if I'm honest. I already seem quite unqualified to be writing this review.