Monty Python gags for the working class

By GREG DIXON

At last a new comedy that makes me laugh. Just when I thought I was condemned to hooting at the same old gags - The Simpsons repeating from here to eternity on TV3; TV2's late night re-screening of Larry David's superb, misanthropic Curb Your Enthusiasm - Prime slips the marvellous, hilarious Little Britain (9.45pm) into its schedule.

This sketch comedy, written and performed by David Walliams and Matt Lucas - some will remember him as the big baby on the drums in Vic Reeves' and Bob Mortimer's game show Shooting Stars - is a small but perfectly formed gem.

It is a collection of bizarre characters and surreal situations that suggest the mad, almost dream-like approach of Monty Python, with a working-class rather than Oxbridge sensibility.

Yet Little Britain is in so many ways wholly traditional in approach. Its format is one of rapid-fire, back-to-back sketches build around a small group of characters mostly played by Lucas and Walliams, characters who utter the sort of memorable catchphrases that will soon pepper the conversation of fans.

Lucas and Walliams have said their heroes are the Two Ronnies (themselves inspired by the straight-guy-funny-guy convention of the generation that preceded them) and it is easy to see how Little Britain fits that tradition.

It is Pythonesque, yes, but utterly conventional - almost to the point of paying tribute to what has come before.

But you can see, too, that the series, which started life as a radio show is also a deliberate move away from the hyper-naturalistic comedy route opened by The Office - probably no bad thing given that the style of The Office will be much copied but never bettered.

Like The Office, however, the sheer originality on display in Little Britain is impressive.

Lucas and Walliams have created a cast of ugly but compelling oddballs who are almost instantly branded on the brain: Vicky Pollard, the obnoxious, unintelligible, speed-talking teenager from the town of Darkly Noone (catchphrase: "no, but yeah, but no, but, but you don't know nuffin' about it"); Emily Howard, the rubbish transvestite from the seaside town of Old Haven ("I'm a lady, don't you know?"); Dafyyd, the proud, solitary "homosexualist" in the Welsh town of Llandewi Breffi ("I'm the only gay in this village"); the (allegedly) wheelchair-bound grump Andy and his helper Lou; the plump Marjorie Dawes (a character seen on Shooting Stars) who runs the Fat Fighters group at the local community centre.

But these are just a few of the regulars and each - thanks to terrific performances from Walliams and Lucas - seemed fully formed entities from the first episode.

And the droll voice-overs linking the sketches (from Tom Doctor Who Baker) only add to the sense this is a complete package rather than a series on disparate ideas.

Baker's narration not only mocks the convention of narration but revels in being plain silly: "Britain, Britain, Britain ... land of technical achievement - we've had running water for 10 years ... and we invented the cat."

Little Britain has, of course, cult success written all over it - which means, in all likelihood, it will only find a small audience of passionate fans here.

It deserves to be the comedy hit of the year.