This is my second attempt at writing this post. The first came to an abrupt end when my other laptop decided to freeze the mouse pad because it wanted to install an update and I lost everything in the reboot. So apologies if this post is tetchier than normal. Although to be fair, my judgement hasn’t changed on the programme I’m reviewing.

Year of the Rabbit is an historical sitcom that follows the exploits of Inspector Rabbit. He is assisted by nice-but-dim posh boy Strauss and wannabe first female copper Mabel. The format generally follows a daft crime of the week that vaguely satirises Victorian culture (and to a lesser extent ours) with a background plot of a shadowy feminist organisation.

Let’s start with the weaknesses. Or rather, weakness that is repeated throughout. It is frankly far too heavy handed in its delivery and character building. Northern chief constable Wisbeach comes out with trite sayings. Strauss’s naivety/stupidity is dull, both in its boringness and bluntness. The jokes about Mabel wanting to be a woman copper and then turning out to be the best detective on the team might as well have massive arrows pointing to them. It is all so overdone, if it was a steak it would come out of the kitchen as a piece of charcoal.

There are bright spots. Matt Berry is good as Rabbit, even if his Cockney mannerisms are as overplayed as everything else. There is at least the balance of a streak of eccentricity in him that allows the unexpected to be played out. This ability to surprise the audience is, after all, the source of the best comedy. Having said that, the fact the best line of the opening episode was his explanation for losing an eyebrow (‘the dog chewed it off last year’) is a good marker for how weak the rest of the jokes are.

The other is Keeley Hawes, although is tends to be a bright spot in everything. As shadowy gang leader Lydia out to get Rabbit she is showing a delicious streak of evil. Best of all, she is actually showing how to underplay something and let the lines speak for themselves. Her plotline is one of the few things keeping me gripped.

This show could have been great if the writing was allowed to be more subtle and the performances likewise. As it is, it feels like a wall of noise and stereotypes. Overall, a wasted opportunity.

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Finally, the much-anticipated return of Killing Eve has happened. It was one of last year’s most-talked about shows with what was a breathless mix of action, drama and comedy. Oh, and lots of blood. It was near perfection, and the bar was set high for the return.

Some people felt let down by the season two opener. Too slow was a common complaint. Having spent most the first season building this cat-and-mouse narrative around Eve and Villanelle, the prolonged separation of the two characters, and Villanelle’s lack of ability to move around, was seen as hampering.

Personally, I disagree. It was the show taking a deep breath before plunging us back in again. There was still all the hallmarks we have come to love, not least the whip-smart dialogue. Fiona Shaw in particular seems to deliver every line with delightful glee, revelling in the role and the words. And there was a shocking twist that I won’t spoil for anyone who hasn’t seen it, but it was precisely the kind of jolt this show delivers like no other.

Besides, the second episode soon blew any fears of cobwebs away. Eve has a new team, and a new shopping habit, whilst still obsessing over the one that got away. Villanelle proved she is still as resourceful as ever as she, for a change, nearly became the victim, and also got a new handler to send her off on a new round of murderous city breaks. And the episode again ended with another neat twist.

The appeal of the show is obvious to anyone who has watched it. It’s smart for a start. Don’t expect to be hand held and have everything explained to you, as the show is too busy careering round the next corner. The dialogue isn’t there to answer your questions but merely to carry you to the next moment, with some lovely dark humour thrown in. My personal highlight was Eve and Carolyn chowing down on a burger whilst inspecting a corpse.

The characters are brilliant, as ever. Although I miss Bill, the trinity of Villanelle, Eve and Carolyn are probably three of the best-written characters ever. And to top it all, there is the tantalising promise of a second female assassin who is the polar opposite of Villanelle – covert and blending into the crowd compared to Villanelle’s love of the theatrics of the kill.

Watching this show is a real highlight of the week for me, hence my refusal to binge watch. A season three is already promised. With something this brilliant, you don’t want it to end.

I like it when a new show I’m watching takes me by surprise. I’m not talking about some big twist, although that is of course welcome. I’m thinking here more of when you watch something that appears fluffy and shallow but actually reveals itself to have a surprising amount of depth.

This happened recently with The Other Two. On the surface, this is a simple mocking of the shallowness of the entertainment industry and fame. The show follows the two adult siblings of the latest teen pop sensation. Both are jealous of his sudden success but also know he could be a passport to greater glories for their own stalled careers. Cory is a failed actor, Brooke a professional dancer.

It is brilliant at getting laughs out of this simple concept. The media machine, both traditional and social, are easy targets but well done. It straggles the line between sharp but not cruel, at least to the characters who aren’t cruel themselves. The episode where Chase’s media team navigates the LGBT fandom, with the video being considered either hot or not depending on the latest tweet, was a prime example of this.

But where this show surprised me is the tender portrayal of Cary. He is a gay man who is out, but still not comfortable with himself. He allows his supposedly straight roommate to engage in sex acts on him despite knowing there is nothing deeper there. He takes pride in not being identified as gay He even straight-washes himself to get parts he wants. The same episode as detailed above saw him realise some of the damage this causing to him. Suddenly, I went from liking him to wanting him to triumph. Drew Tarver is note perfect.

This is not to downplay some of the other characters. Helene Yorke is great as the vacuous, scatter-brained Brooke, who is herself going on a journey and realising what it means to be an adult and taking responsibility. While she hasn’t had the Road to Damascus conversion of Cary yet, I hope she does.

I also think we should recognise Wanda Sykes as the sharp-elbowed and the even sharper-mouthed record executive. She is one of those characters who can steal a scene from only a few lines or gestures.

This show is great. It is genuinely funny and clever, and amazingly hits you with a few sucker punches as well. It will probably pass most people by unnoticed but I can also imagine it gaining a loyal following from those that do watch it. And you really should.

Sometimes, I am very on the fence as if to whether I like a programme or not. I can see the germs of something I like, but also see a lot that I don’t. These are often the hardest shows to review, as I end up writing something that justifies to myself why I’m watching, rather than selling it to you.

The Ranganation falls into this category. The format is that Romesh Ranganathan gathers a cross-section of the British public to talk about the week’s news. It is a blend of Gogglebox and Have I Got News For You, although I’m not sure it has captured the best of either.

The show is at its best in one of two scenarios. First, a member of the Ranganation says something so daft that they become playful cannon fodder for Romesh, who often unleashes the grumpier side of his personality at this point. The second is Romesh’s interactions with his mum, who is very good at innocently stealing the show.

When either of these two things happen, the show really flies. Ranganathan, like many comedians, is better when unscripted and he can just riff off someone. Sometimes the debate within the audience can actually get quite funny as well.

Where the show falls down is when the opposite happens and everything feels boxed in with a script. The opening prelude feels lazy and full of cheap shots. Even worse, it is stilted. The panellists are like coiled springs waiting for the actual show to start.

Of course, the biggest question is around the sincerity of the panellists. Are they really how the come across on camera, or are they putting on affectations, hoping to be the next Scarlett Moffatt? There are also a handful that seem to force themselves to be more prominent than others, even if they have less knowledge of what they are talking about. This show feels ripe for a fact checker to be employed on.

Overall, it’s enjoyable enough and currently uncontested for me in its time slot. But for me, the jury is out on if it deserves a second season or not. It falls in that awkward category of I would watch it if it did, but not miss it if it didn’t.

Dystopian futures are very on trend right now. This is unsurprising when you consider the extent of the political turmoil the world is in right now and the fact that the pace of cultural and technological change grows ever faster. I normally avoid this genre, as it just gives you further nightmares to the one you already have.

Yet I found myself drawn to Years and Years. The drama revolves around one family over a 15-year period from 2019-2034 as their lives are shaped by the world around them, in particular the rise of right-wing populist politician Vivienne Rook (Emma Thompson).

Political crisis so far played out (we are up to 2025) include Russia successfully gaining full political control of Ukraine, leading to a refugee crisis when those opposed to Russia are forced to flee, America’s trade war with China leading to Trump launching a nuclear weapon on a military base and the resulting economic sanctions leading to a banking crisis that dwarves 2008.

But it’s not just politics that is played out. The remorseless advance of technology also plays a part. One family member declares themselves trans-human, wanting rid of their body to be just uploaded as data. Hologram emoji masks and having a phone implanted into their body are just the start of this transformation.

All of this would just be weighty moral lesson learning if it lacked a people dimension, but this is where the show shines. Daniel (Russell Tovey) falls in love with one of the refugees fleeing Ukraine, leading him to divorce his husband and setting up a revenge plot. Stephen (Rory Kinnear) loses all his money in the banking crisis and is faced with a daughter who has more affinity with machines than people.

It is the character of Rosie (Ruth Madeley) that potentially has the most interesting progression. She is the one who, as the series progresses, most buys into Rook’s populist vision. Quite how far she falls and the price she and others pay for Rook’s rise to power is still to be seen, but she does represent how many voters feel. Outside of the London bubble, not sharing in the boom others enjoy but being hit by the bust and generally being economically isolated from the world around here, Rosie is the person made angry about the future and clings to the hope of returning to a past Rook promises.

For all the grimness, there is a sprinkling of humour throughout, particularly from formidable matriarch Muriel (Anne Reid). It’s this that helps you buy into the world and the characters, and makes it feel so real.

Whilst the show is giving me nightmares (nothing presented feels impossible right now), it is gripping. It is a warning for us all. But how many will pay attention to it is another matter.

It is that time again where I air my thoughts on the results of Eurovision Song Contest. It was a year of contrasting musical styles, with the traditional ballads, dancefloor bangers and ethno-pop meeting pop opera and BDSM techno-punk. Oh, and Madonna turned up.

In fact, let’s start with her. You would think after being in the industry for nearly 40 years she would know how to make chat with TV hosts, but no. Her stilted conversation with the poor presenter was the most awkward moment of the night. Until that is we got to her actual performance. Barely a note was in tune and was actually mind-numbingly dull. A waste of 10 minutes that could have been given to hurrying the vote along so we could have gone to bed before midnight.

Honestly, most of the half-time entertainment was sub-par. Thank god for Verka, who should be a feature every year. At least give him a five-minute cabaret slot at some point.

The songs themselves were all very middle of the road in terms of quality. Bar a weirdly cold Slovenia and an overly saccharine Germany (and the bizarre world of San Marino) there were very few clangers, but also very little genuine quality. Norway was a personal favourite of mine, for actually bringing a bit of a tune and some energy. Azerbaijan was another high point and I have to reluctantly give some credit to Russia.

The biggest talking point was, of course, Iceland. The song itself was deliciously OTT, as was the staging. How they got away with something bordering on BDSM porn is beyond me (we were one ball gag away from an 18 rating), but I’m glad they did. Quite what Europe’s take on their Palestine protest during the voting will be is another matter. It’s interesting Madonna got away with her political statement with the crowd but not them.

The Netherlands were victors. It wasn’t a surprise though. Although not a personal favourite of mine, it obviously had a quality to it that would chime with juries and public alike. It is yet more proof that sincerity, regardless of genre of song, is the biggest vote winner. If you can sell the story of your song to the audience, you are going to be in the running to win.

Which brings me to the UK. Whilst the song was poor and the staging no better, last felt harsh when you consider some of the other songs out there. But it did lack anything to make it sound special. It takes more than a good voice. There will always be a debate as to if internal selection or public is the way forward, but there needs to be quality to begin with.

Still, there’s always next year. Amsterdam here we come!

Sometimes it’s good to be proven wrong. The new relationship your friend starts that you think won’t last but then results in their eternal happiness. The idea at work you are convinced will fail but actually makes turning up that bit easier. Or, on a smaller level, where you feel a TV show has lost its way only to surprise you by a return to form.

Taskmaster did just this. After what I felt was a ropey series 5, series 6 then became one of my favourites, with series 7 nearly matching that. The fear of downward spiral ended as I was able to put the stumble in quality down to a blip.

I still had worries for series 8 though. The line-up unnerved me. Only one of the cast was a stand-up comedian, although two others admittedly were, just not known for it. The other two are comedy actors, who I feel struggle on environments like this, as there is a certain element of ad-libbing that doesn’t work for those who depend on a script.

If the first episode is anything to go by, I shouldn’t have worried. Sian Gibson, one of the actors, is actually very good at handling the spontaneous nature of the show, perhaps because Car Share, the show that made her a star, was largely unscripted. Joe Thomas, the other actor, struggles more, and looks hopelessly out of his depth. However, that is not necessarily a bad thing, as it makes him a convenient receptacle for his fellow panellists’ barbs.

The others (Paul Sinha, Lou Sanders and Iain Stirling) are also on good form. In the case of Stirling this is already bordering on excellent. Sinha is another potential walking punchline as he seems to be the contestant most likely to repeatedly make a pig’s ear of things.

The tasks remain as inventive as ever as well. The first episode saw everything from sexy ventriloquist dolls to competing powerful smells. For a show that depends so much on original and eccentric ideas, it is surprisingly still thriving.

Greg Davies and Alex Horne remain brilliant of course. It is impossible for them not to be. Having said that, an episode of Taskmaster where they are the funniest thing is a poor episode, as the driver should always be the contestants. Good news – they are not.

This show is one of my hours of unadulterated joy. If it can maintain this form I never want it to end. I was as wrong as wrong could be last time. And it has never made me more happy to be so.