Another week, another TV adaptation of a classic book. At least Cranford (BBC1) hasn't been adapted by Andrew Davies, so it may not over-emphasise sexual goings-on. In fact the first episode portrayed a very strait-laced society in which people are outraged at a man holding a woman's arm. The townspeople are mainly women since, as Elizabeth Gaskell wrote in the first chapter of her book: "Cranford is in possession of the Amazons; all the holders of houses above a certain rent are women."

The adaptation clearly established a society dominated by women: from the puritanical Miss Deborah Jenkyns (played by Eileen Atkins with terrifying sternness) and her more affable sister Matty (Judi Dench) to the village gossip, Miss Pole (Imelda Staunton). We got a clear picture of a snobbish, hidebound Victorian society clinging together in fear of the outside world - but also a society whose members can help one another as well as gossiping about each other.

As ever, there were the occasional anachronisms (did people really say "It is all go" in the 1850s?) but the drama showed convincingly what it was like to live at a time when you depended on candles to light the darkness and the only form of anaesthetic was a gag shoved into the mouth. The action became confusing as more characters were introduced in disconcerting numbers (the Radio Times lists 17 major personages) and they were difficult to tell apart. This probably arises from the adaptation covering three of Gaskell's novels, not just Cranford, and it spells possible confusion in future episodes.

Cranford is a comedy of Victorian manners, but how does it compare with more recent comedy? Kenny Everett: Licence to Laugh (ITV1) reminded us of the radio DJ whose TV shows were among the funniest things on TV in the seventies and eighties. The humour was as surreal as Monty Python, since the irrepressible Everett would try anything. He gave outlandish impersonations of celebrities like Rod Stewart and Mrs Thatcher, and created a range of memorable characters, including Marcel Wave, Sid Snot and the outrageous leg-crossing woman called Cupid Stunt.

This ITV portrait dragged out numerous people to testify to Everett's wild genius - from the likeable (Barry Cryer, Cleo Rocas) to the undesirable (Chris Moyles, Russell Brand). But the most effective parts of the programme were the extracts from Kenny's TV shows, which deserve to be shown again.

Lead Balloon (BBC2), which has returned for a second series, is sadly not so funny. It stars Jack Dee as a misanthropic comedian who precipitates disasters by his selfish, petulant behaviour. Many reviewers have noted the series' similarity to Larry David's Curb Your Enthusiasm, which orchestrates the disasters more subtly. Lead Balloon often telegraphs its plot twists well in advance, undermining the potential humour. It's watchable without being hilarious.

The phrase 'Iranian comedian' may sound like a contradiction in terms but I have been delighted by the humorous antics of Mansour Bahrami on the tennis court, and enjoyed the stand-up comedy of Omid Djalili. The latter now stars in The Omid Djalili Show (BBC1), where he makes much of the contrasts between British and Iranian culture. In fact he relies a bit too much on jokes about these stereotypes, which rather undermines his claim to be an ambassador for multiculturalism. The show's sketches don't quite hit the spot either, and one wonders if Omid is wise to face the challenge of his very own show.

Charlie Chaplin was once the most famous comedian in the world but his reputation has faltered, with people accusing him of sentimentality or simply not being funny. Paul Merton's Silent Clowns (BBC2) reminded us of Chaplin's pioneering films and his great qualities: "High emotion, sharp directing, impeccable timing." Paul Merton went to France to interview Marcel Marceau just before Marcel's recent death. Marceau intended to be a conventional actor but, when he saw Chaplin's films, he decided to become a mime - because Chaplin "says everything without speaking".