Given that the script is incapable of generating drama, their reliance on the mood lighting is understandable. It would, in fact, be a good thing if the program was made in total darkness, thus making it impossible to see any of the actors as they walk woodenly through their roles.

The dialogue, clipped and intended to convey a sense of toughness, is straight from the pages of a Spiderman comic which may explain why the program is so popular, it requiring the degree of concentration normally dedicated to breathing.

In this week's episode Doodles is just clowning around, as clowns do, but there's nothing funny in the fate which befalls him, for Doodles ends up dead. Doodles, alas, appears to have been the victim of a sex crime and there the matter would have rested had it not been for the dazzling forensic science practised by the team from CSI.

This storyline is implausible even by CSI standards, for Doodles has been dabbling where he should not have been. Inevitably, the CSI people are helped by the incredible stupidity of the perpetrators who conveniently harbour damning evidence in their homes instead of destroying it as would any killer whose IQ exceeded their shoe size.

For those who have not already seen this episode, I do not want to spoil the climatic moment for you, but suffice to say that apparently there are women out there who like clowning around with clowns. Once this becomes widely known, I expect there will be a rush on clown suits at costume stores. So if you're male, single and desperate, move quickly.

Regency House Party continued on the ABC, it being one social occasion to which I remain grateful I was not invited. This series follows the plight of 10 men and women chosen to be taken 200 years into the past as guests at a grand summer ball held in a stately English home in the Regency period. Those with an interest in the period may find it fascinating. The other 99.8 per cent of the population will be bored beyond endurance.

Romance blossoms in Stingers with Peter Phelps cornering one of his colleagues for a lips-on-lips encounter and no, the object of his affections is not Gary Sweet. That sort of thing - and there's nothing wrong with it, mind - might be acceptable on The Bill but there's no place for alternative sexual behaviour in Stingers.

This program has been around for a long time - or does it just seem that it has - and, I will concede, has improved although Sweet's attempts at playing the taciturn hard case continues to provide unintended comic relief. Phelps' performance, however, continues to cause severe stomach cramps and a general sense of malaise.

As the networks move into Olympics mode, I don't expect any relief from the mundane offerings which normally burden the schedule. The rationale is that as the Olympics will automatically suck in the great mass of viewers, there's little point in offering a viable alternative which leaves those people who find television sport as exciting as watching cake icing contests clutching to the ABC for life support.