Frances Grant: Nice girls making a comeback

Amber Tamblyn as Joan of Arcadia.

Perhaps it's coincidence rather than timing, but as we turn back the clocks and enter the gloomy half of the year it's thoughtful of TV2 and TV3 to switch on a couple of moral beacons to guide us in the darkness.

Two leading lights of the family-friendly genre returned last week: the strange Joan of Arcadia, with its suggestion of saintliness, martyrdom and iconic feminist role models, and Gilmore Girls, which for all its good intentions never seems to have made it to an evening slot here.

The meek may inherit the Earth but prime time remains firmly off-limits.

The original Joan of Arc could not be faulted for her leadership and motivational skills. TV teen drama Joan is more out on her own and could possibly be suffering from mental delusions.

Her life is ruled by a capricious God, who takes on a startling array of guises in any one episode - the fat schoolgirl, an old guy with a Zimmer frame, the guy taking out the trash.

God tells Joan exactly what to do and she obeys: from taking piano lessons from a sad, old recluse, to taking the school loser to the prom and working on the school yearbook.

None of these acts makes much sense to Joan until God comes along and spells out the moral pay-off, such as bringing a little light to the lives of others, or discovering someone's hidden talents.

God nearly always speaks in helpful, uplifting platitudes, such as "stand by who you are" and "searching for something of value is never easy".

In the loser episode, God revealed that Joan had saved her school from a nasty Columbine-style massacre. If only. Watching this show is in itself a Job-like test in patience for those of us who can't wait to switch over to the attractively sinful antics of the gang from The OC.

Joan of Arcadia features many inexplicable phenomena, chief among them the presence of a quality actor such as Joe Mantegna as Joan's sanctimonious police chief father. I petition God to come in at the end of the episode and explain that one please.

Still, it's God's prerogative to move in mysterious ways. Tomorrow night, He sends Joan to makeup class.

Don't tell me the Almighty really does go for the Tammy Faye Bakker look in god-fearing women.

Equally incomprehensible as Joan and God is how you can end up watching an entire episode of the anaemic Gilmore Girls, about single mum Lorelai and her dutiful daughter Rory. Perhaps it's because at 5pm on a Sunday there's no avoiding the weekday ironing and, with its lack of anything offensive, the show is a harmless accompaniment.

However, it does fit right into the mood of end-of-the-weekend schadenfreude.

Don't angst so much about university, you want to tell the horribly earnest Rory, you'll only end up working countless hours for some exploitative American corporation that will give you a stingy two weeks off a year.

Yes, the tasteful, goodytwoshoes shows are back but, hang on a minute, this is television. The Devil reasserts himself later in the evening.

As Joan and friends are quickly followed by the seven deadly sinners of The OC, the saccharin Gilmore Girls are balanced later on Sunday evening by the "suburban nightmare" mother-daughter duo Kath and Kim.

Fancy a spot of retail therapy and an all-you-can-eat buffet down at the mall? All is wonderful vulgarity. Heaven can wait.