Eh, bah gum, it's grim up North (And South), i'nt it? Why, there were nowt but black soot, chuffing chimneys and galloping consumption in Monday night's latest corset caper from BBC1, an adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskill's 19th century novel North And South.

And just in case there was any doubt that this four-parter was set during 'tindustrial revolution, we had endless shots of grime-encrusted factory hands in bad boots (oh, and those cute little short pashminas they all used to wear) as well as plenty of slow-motion, arty images of the infamous dark, satanic mills.

Well, I say dark, but these ones were actually dazzlingly light seeing as they were in the business of manufacturing cotton - gossamer wisps of which danced permanently in the air like pretty snowflakes, ready to ravage the lungs of all those unsuspecting six-year-old workers.

"I have seen hell, and it is white," exclaimed our heroine, Margaret Hale (AKA Daniela Denby-Ashe, AKA Sarah, the doe-eyed bible-basher off EastEnders, triv fans).

We witnessed the revolution almost entirely through the eyes of Miss Hale and her family, a genteel, but impoverished lot of southern softies, forced to move up to miserable old Manchester due to some flimsy reason I can't quite recall.

They finally settled in Milton (no, they didn't come back and head for Barton-On-Sea, this is oop North Milton, as in Mill town, geddit?)

And my, how all those dreadful northerners and their common ways appalled them. Things like having a cough, being unwashed and shaking hands without a by your leave left them quite giddy with indignation.

In a bid to capture the gritty reality of the times, North And South was filmed in constant gloom, with earnest, urgent dialogue that was at times difficult to catch; mind you, that was probably a blessing, like as not, as at times you suspected that there were trouble at t'script.

As with all bodice rippers, a love story lies at the heart of it. And, this one is essentially Mills & Boon.

On the one hand we have the vicar's daughter Margaret, a thoroughly wholesome Hampshire lass who is all at odds with her harsh new surroundings.

On the other we have Mr John Thornton, the brooding and brutal - yet devastatingly handsome (come on, I said it was pure M&B) - cock o' the north and owner of 'tmill.

Everything he stands for is anathema to Margaret, the refined, philanthropic chalk to his devil-may-care, money-motivated cheese.

She's a friend of the downtrodden workers, he's the fiend who downtreads them (if that's the word).

So, of course, they will fall madly in love over the next few weeks. Or so I predict.

Ignoring the ill-fitting facial furniture, excessive backward glances and over-wordy lines, the historical detail is fairly accurate and the era itself fascinating, so it's a decent enough watch, if only to count how many times they say: "Aye, that's as maybe..."

Industrial history aside, the other thing oop North is famous for is its comics and they don't come funnier than baby-faced Peter Kay, the man who gave us observations such as "everyone remembers a day when a dog ran into their school"; "some days you just see lots of people on crutches"; and the glorious "the smaller the monkey, the more it looks like it would kill you at the first opportunity".

Kay penned the brilliant comedy series, Phoenix Nights - now the stuff of legends and not just because of the unforgettable Sammy the Snake children's inflatable.

He starred as the Phoenix Club's wheelchair-bound owner, Brian Potter and also as one half of the daft doorman duo of Max and Paddy.

Now the bumbling bouncers are back in a spin-off show called Max & Paddy's Road To Nowhere (C4, Fri/Wed) and it's already promising to be on a par with Phoenix Nights.

The boys have set themselves up with a touring caravan, and have already been getting up to all sorts of scrapes, including knocking off a plasma screen TV, but failing to notice it had no speakers and bringing back some laydeees of dubious repute after a night's clubbing.

Watch and chuckle.

Most excruciating sight of the week: The horribly insecure husband of Leesa (nice spelling, by the way) in Wife Swap (C4, Tues) crying on camera as he explained that her staying with another man (er, the point of the show, surely?) was like 'avin' me 'art ripped out'.

Most creepy sight of the week: The husband of Leesa in Wife Swap (C4, Tues) looking waaaaay too comfy dressed as a spectacularly ugly woman for no reason whatsoever.

PS. I'm A Celebrity... Get Me Out Of Here! starts this weekend. Yipee!