Choose this infantile comedy show and you're the loser

"Who thought up these questions?" a woman asked during one of the show's vox pop segments, a query echoed a little later by panellist Hilary. "Who the f**k is writing these questions?" she wondered.

Well might they ask because here are some of the questions that were put to the two teams: Would you rather have to pee every time you stand up or poo every time you sit down? Would you prefer a girl with a penis or a guy with a vagina? Would you rather drink pee that tastes like lemonade or lemonade that tastes like pee?

Eight year olds in a playground could manage better than that - and better, too, than the witless responses of the contestants, all of them apparently comedians, though I hadn't heard of any of them and won't be devastated if I never hear of them again.

For the record, the script was attributed to someone called Hugh Travers, though if that resolves the matter of who dreamt up the questions, a more pertinent query remains: who in RTÉ gave the green light to this infantile nonsense?

Just as unwatchable, though for very different reasons, RTÉ1's Prime Time undercover report on a Co Mayo residential unit for the intellectually disabled was a true shocker. "I am absolutely stuck for words," was the response of Owen Barr, head of the University of Ulster's school of nursing, and indeed the abuse on display would have left any viewer speechless.

Man's inhumanity to man, or in this case women's maltreatment of other women, rightly became an immediate news story, but it was just the latest instance of the ghastly treatment still being meted out to the vulnerable in this supposedly caring society.

It's to Prime Time's credit that some of these abuses, whether of toddlers or the elderly, have been exposed in a series of undercover investigations, but you're left wondering what other horrors still remain undetected.

Some people, though, seem to be doing quite nicely in this brave new Ireland of ours. Proving the old adage about every cloud having a silver lining, Through the Roof: Rental Crisis (RTÉ1) showed that while many people, especially in Dublin, are finding it increasingly hard to find flats or houses to rent, it's bonanza time for landlords.

We were introduced to one such landlord who had 50 properties for rent, the one we saw being offered at an "affordable" €1,500 a month. But just because you could come up with the €1,500 didn't mean you were going to be accepted because there were "certain ethnic groups" to whom "you have to say sorry".

No such scruples afflicted another landlord, who preferred social welfare tenants to "posh" people, mainly because they were less pernickety and "it gives me an unlimited pool". Either way, it's clearly a seller's market. I found the programme very depressing.

When Herbert von Karajan embarked on a US tour with the Vienna Philharmonic in the late 1980s, he was greeted with protests about his Nazi past and, indeed, the Nazis had sent him around Europe in the 1930s as a musical ambassador for their murderous regime. Yet, in the absorbing Karajan's Magic and Myth (BBC4), former EMI vice-president Peter Alward argued that the Austrian-born conductor was merely an "opportunist" who had joined the party in order to further his career and that he was on friendly terms with many Jews.

In the early 1950s he worked with the newly-created Philharmonia in London before a lifelong contract with the Berlin Philharmonic made him the most famous conductor in the world. Indeed, throughout his 1960s and 1970s heyday, his Berlin Philharmonic recording output represented 10pc of the global classical market and 40pc of Deutsche Grammophon's sales.

The man's dashing profile, autocratic manner and fondness for a lifestyle of private jets, yachting and fast cars confirmed his celebrity status, though even more fascinating in this 90-minute profile was his sheer dedication to ensuring his own immortality. "This is the future," he declared when he embarked on a series of films of himself and the BPO in concert, though he decreed that 90pc of the footage was of himself rather than the orchestra.

Indeed, he was so concerned about the visual impact of performance that he required his players to look as pleasing as possible, leading James Galway, who spent five years with the Berlin orchestra, to remark: "I don't think Karajan enjoyed having a first flute with a beard and long hair".

Galway was just one among many former players interviewed in the film, violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter insisting that her mentor had "brought classical music out of the ivory tower where it doesn't belong".

Since his death in 1989 there's been something of a critical backlash against him - soulless perfectionism being the main charge - but I grew up listening to his Beethoven, Brahms, Mahler and Sibelius and am still thrilled by the focus and intensity he brought to them. So I was partial to this excellent film from the outset.

In this week's penultimate episode of The Fall (RTÉ1/BBC2), serial killer James Spector was finally apprehended and quizzed by the police. So, too, was his teenage accomplice. What can go wrong? Well, with 60 minutes to go, probably quite a lot.

Either way, I still can't get over the fact that sultry Stella, despite her reputation as a brilliant detective, hasn't actually detected anything. So is she just there to wear silk blouses and make passes at her female colleagues?

By contrast, Homeland (RTÉ2/Channel 4), which is also drawing to a close, has upped its game considerably. This week's invasion of the American embassy in Islamabad was brilliantly filmed. However, I can't imagine that the series is doing anything for US-Pakistan relations.

You won't remember this ...

There's nothing like a good ghost story, and Remember Me (BBC1) was nothing like a good ghost story.

The main thing about a good ghost story is that it should get under your skin and spook you. That's difficult enough to bring off on the page and almost impossible in a visual medium which requires showing rather than suggesting, though The Innocents (1962), which was based on Henry James's The Turn of the Screw, was truly spooky, relying on apparitions only half-glimpsed and maybe not even there at all.

However, Remember Me, with its tale of old Tom being haunted by an Indian nanny, wasn't in the least bit frightening.

Michael Palin's lumberingly mournful turn (right) didn't help and the three-parter was only made endurable by Mark Addy's endearingly befuddled cop and by Jodie Comer's lovely playing of the teenage care worker fearful for Tom's safety.