Old Spy Bill Nighy lives thrice in Turks and Caicos

So magnetic was Nighy that he was constantly pursued by actresses Winona Ryder and Helena Bonham-Carter in this serious drama set on a lush, sunny island.

I wanted them to chat about the size of their respective hotel rooms and mutter: “It’s turned out nice again.” After all, everyone in this story was rich, well-tanned and with an annuity larger than Britain’s budget deficit. However, this show was written by earnest playwright David Hare who, as ever, was intent on being serious. There was very little small talk to come by. Instead we heard about the world economy, illegal detention, a splash of extraordinary rendition and a top layer of tax dodging.

Here is some dialogue which ordinarily would have had you rushing for the remote control. On tax havens: “The only entry qualification [to this island] is to have a good tax lawyer.” Or my favourite: “It’s been a fascinating few years since 9/11…” Who wrote this? Osama Bin Laden?

At some points you did wish for Hare, a celebrated leftie, to get on with the story; we TV viewers are rather time poor. The first in this trilogy, also starring Nighy, was quite high octane by comparison. This second episode however was more: “The propane’s running low in the camp stove, dear”.

There was little danger of anyone cooking their own dinner in this drama. At one stage Nighy, posing

as himself, looked around a hotel “pavilion”, valued at £50,000,000.

I was not quite sure, given the potential clientele, if this was rental or for sale.

No one there suspected Nighy was a spy (except Christopher Walken’s dodgy CIA bloke). Nighy is that good, not least because he also possessed a fine collection of tailored suits. Remember if you are applying for Her Majesty’s Secret Service; off the peg will not do.

The factor that did not have you turning off was the quality of the acting. Have we ever seen Winona Ryder on British television? If not, she will no doubt return if she is always offered such enticing company and a pleasant hotel in which to stay.

Since it is a trilogy we can only hope that the final episode will not end as preposterously as this one. I did not trust Ralph Fiennes as a prime minister anyway; too much Voldemort baggage. If Nighy plays his cards right, he could be the next 007.

(“The name’s Bond, Silver Bond.”)

W1A (BBC2, Wednesday) is one of the few occasions in which a postcode has featured in a TV title. It is not always a good omen. “They Came From SW19” sounded enticing but only if you lived in south London.

W1A is actually the address for “New” Broadcasting House, the home of the BBC. Apologies for those BBC staff now in “Salford”, which will no doubt be the sequel. It will begin with someone like Susanna Reid tweeting “selfies” on her “demanding three-hour commute” to Manchester.

Hugh Bonneville, who is Lord Grantham to most of us, found himself facing a journey north too, to explain the “anti-West Country bias” at the BBC in his new role of “Head of Values” after his success with the Olympics. He also became entangled in the development of a show for BBC1 called Britain’s Tastiest Village, which does not sound like a parody at all and is probably now thought by commissioning editors as a good idea, much like Monkey Tennis, once pitched by Alan Partridge.

What a shame that BBC3 is going online because I always thought its programmes were an ongoing parody of a TV channel. The ongoing joke in the comedy is that no one can find a desk, or a meeting room.

I initially found this funny, then depressing. Indeed the BBC on the BBC is a little too self-flagellating for me. A cameo from BBC creative director Alan Yentob? Too cosy, surely.

However much credit for a genuine “life imitating art” when Alan Titchmarsh left his ITV chat show, just as he had done in this comedy. Best line, as ever, went to the PR, played by Jessica Hynes: “Let’s nail this puppy to the floor.”

We revisited a proper satire in Arena: Whatever Happened to Spitting Image? (BBC4, Thursday).

I was prepared to ignore a slightly pretentious film just to relive this classic ITV satire, the like of which will never be seen again.

It is safe to say, I think, that the budgets, the commitment and the expertise no longer exist and I honestly could not imagine a channel controller now having the intestinal fortitude to commission such a savage and hilarious critique of public life. Respect and PR now reign.

The brains behind the exercise were John Lloyd, who would go on to help create Blackadder, together with caricaturists Roger Law and Peter Fluck. The writers would include Ian Hislop and the voices featured Harry Enfield, John Culshaw, Steve Coogan and Alistair McGowan.

At the beginning it was a struggle with co-creator John Blair calling them a “bunch of complete amateurs” but persistence will out and soon 15 million viewers were chortling away to puppets who had a strange, lifelike quality, quite unlike their animated counterparts.

When a puppet such as Michael Hestletine loses its head, you laugh. And who can forget the sketch where the PM takes her Cabinet for a meal? Waiter to Margaret Thatcher: “What about the vegetables?” Reply: “They will have the same as me.”

Here was a fitting memorial to a wonderful show.