TV: Damien Love reveals his pick of the week's TV

Downton Abbey

9pm, STV

"Look at this, a man in misery." "Who's in misery?" "The king, according to Robert." "Why's he in misery?" "He has to deal with a Labour government, why do you think?" And with those few subtle strokes of the keyboard, Julian Fellows, the very lord of exposition, has masterfully, mysteriously set the scene for what feels like the 94th series of Upstairs Downstairs With A Close Up Of A Big Dog's Bum At The Start: somehow, we know that there is a new Labour government. How does the man do it? It's 1924, and Lord Hugh Bonneville isn't happy about this incoming socialist lot: "Our government is committed to the destruction of people like us and everything we stand for." Harrumph sir, harrumph.

Meanwhile, he and his faithful old Carson have a bit of a falling out over the plans for a war memorial, and sly Branson continues to be sly. Elsewhere, sad Edith has gone off to see "a lady in the village" but the strains of keeping her secret are beginning to tell. As are the strains of trying to keep awake.

Monday, September 22

Gomorrah

9pm, Sky Atlantic

Devotees of this riveting Italian crime saga might have done a double take in the dying seconds of last week's episode, as a brooding hulk stepped from the shadows in Lady Imma's house, to stop her campaign of taking over the family in its tracks. Just to be clear: that was indeed her son, Genny, and as we see in more detail tonight, he has returned from his long exile to Honduras a very changed man. Sporting a haircut reminiscent of Joe Strummer after he binged on Apocalypse Now and Taxi Driver, Genny has been into the heart of darkness, and is out to make sure everyone knows he is no longer the frivolous weakling son, but the new Don. First thing on his agenda is the little matter of getting rid of the city's mayor, and installing his own man in his place. Meanwhile, as he finds himself pushed further and further out of the loop, the simmering Ciro takes a young garage mechanic under his wing as his personal gofer - but he has more significant plans for the kid.

Tuesday, September 23

The Driver

Tuesday, 9pm, BBC One

Over in the alternative universe of American TV, David Morrissey has been busy recently as The Governor, the fantastical, eyepatch-wearing villain in The Walking Dead. Back home, however, he's carving out a position as The Walking Mid-Life Crisis, the go-to guy for instantly recognisable characters of a certain age who are suddenly feeling their age, and heading toward some explosion.

He started 2014 in this mode with January's The 7:39, playing an ostensibly happily married man who embarks upon an out-of-the-blue affair with a stranger, played by Sheridan Smith. The programme maybe wasn't quite one for the ages, but it was beautifully acted and a welcome change, a nuanced, grown-up love story amid what often seems like an unending sea of mediocre crime shows.

The most refreshing thing about The 7:39 was that it wasn't a thriller. Now, though, with the three-part The Driver, Morrissey has made the thriller version of the same story. Once again, he's cast as that guy grinding it out in the suburbs, watching his rut grow daily deeper, and looking for some lifeline to haul himself out. But this time, it isn't a chance, impetuous romance; the thing that makes his heart pound like it hasn't in years is a chance to taste a life of crime.

Morrissey plays Vince, a taxi driver whose routine Travis Bickle would recognise, albeit with a garnish of British angst: nights on the rain-slick streets amid the wildlife, feeling invisible; mornings spent cleaning the filth from the back seat. One night, however, he finds himself picking up an old pal, Col (Ian Hart), fresh from jail. They spend a night drinking like they did when they were in their twenties, and Vince accepts an invitation to play poker with Col's pal, a hugely shady "businessman" known to his intimates as The Horse (Colm Meaney).

Turns out The Horse needs a man to do some driving, no questions asked. Vince recoils, but then, after a particularly bad night on the job, agrees. Suddenly, he's behind the wheel of a powerful and expensive motor, dodging cops like they do in movies, he's being handed wads of cash, and the adrenaline, tinged with fear, is coursing through him like a drug. Everything is revitalised. But, of course, the fear, and the ominous sensation gnawing at his stomach, gradually grow worse.

As with The 7:39's love story, this tale is a very old one: a good man going to bad and getting out his depth. This was a familiar parable even before it became the template for countless films noir and, written by Danny Brocklehurst and Jim Poyser, there is a heavy predictability about The Driver. But there's nothing wrong with hearing the old standards played well. (Even better when they come with the odd strange kink, like the weird tweedledum shiver of surrealism in a scene where Col confronts his twin brother, also played by Hart.)

Indeed, the dread sense of inevitability is one of the series's nasty pleasures. It's the performances that sell it, though. Meaney has a whale of a time, but the real pleasure is Morrissey and Hart, working together for the first time since they were bickering scally schoolboys in One Summer, in 1983. That series lodged in many memories, and the reunion adds a layer. You remember them as those boys then, you see them as these men now, and you feel all the lost years building, ready to blow.

Wednesday, September 24

Oh! You Pretty Things

9pm, BBC Four

With contributions from the performers and their stylists through theorists to the fans who tried copying the looks in the clubs and on the street, the second episode of this considered rummage back through the pop wardrobe focuses squarely on the 1970s, from glam to prog to post-punk in all their pomp. There's the obligatory Ziggy-era Bowie montage early on, but the programme really gets going with an in-depth appreciation of Suzi Quatro, looking back to her younger self circa 1973, stomping through Can The Can on the Christmas Top Of The Pops in her leather biker-catsuit combo: a performance hailed by the narration as "an unlikely, but monumental moment for women's sound and style". Elsewhere, Rick Wakeman is on hand to discuss the equally monumental moment when he first decided to wear a cape ("That's the way to stop looking like a demented spider"); Zandra Rhodes and Brian May look recall their low-key collaboration during the Queen days; Bob Hope gets surprised by feminist protestors; and Sex Pistol Glen Matlock considers the seemliness of bondage trousers for the aging punk.

Thursday, September 25

Marvellous

9pm, BBC Two

Toby Jones stars in this terrific one-off by writer Peter Bowker, based on the unlikely real life story of Neil Baldwin. Born with learning difficulties in the 1940s, Baldwin was written of as a child by his school, but through sheer force of will, personality and an unself-conscious manner of speaking his mind, went on to have himself an extraordinary life. From an unskilled job in the potteries, he joined a travelling circus as a clown, then became beloved kit man at Stoke City FC, where he once appeared on the substitute's bench dressed as a chicken: "my best ever signing," according to Lou Macari, the manager who brought him in. Meanwhile, as well as rubbing shoulders with the great and the good, Baldwin became a totemic presence around Keele University, chatting with students and offering advice. With appearances from the real Baldwin and some of the figures in his life, Bowker constructs a strange, clear-eyed and never mawkish mix of documentary, drama, fantasy and musical. As Baldwin, it's another great performance from Jones, who returns next week with MacKenzie Crook for the new sitcom, Detectorists.

Friday, September 26

Enlightened

10pm, Sky Atlantic

In 2012, Laura Dern picked up a richly deserved Golden Globe for her performance as Amy Jelico, the frustrated, frustrating flake melting at the centre of Enlightened. Yet this superb HBO show, which she created along with co-star and writer Mike White, remains practically unknown here. It's maddening, but understandable. A trippy tragedy masquerading as comedy, it's far too nuanced, too quiet, too abrasive, too elusive, spacey and intangible to be a massive hit or become a bandwagon. But Amy is an astonishing creation - her bodycount is smaller, but when it comes to genuine complexity, a character who tests your reaction and relation to them, she leaves supposed mould-breakers like Walter White and Dexter in the dust. Formerly a self-destructing corporate executive, reborn as a New Age evangelist burdened by a life's worth of barely-buried issues, Amy is a true nightmare, yet somehow sympathetic and sometimes utterly heart-breaking. Beginning with a double bill, this second and final series picks up where the first left off (and won't mean much unless you've seen what came before), as, paving the road before her with good intentions, she seizes on a new mission to bring down the corporate behemoth she works for, with the aid of a bemused investigative journalist (Dermot Mulrooney).

Saturday, September 27

Doctor Who

7.30pm, BBC One

If you are one of that curious new breed of Doctor Who fans who actually care about the emotional lives of his fellow travellers in the Tardis, and have been getting just a whole big lot out of the burgeoning, on-off, could-this-possibly-have-something-to-do-with-some-tortuous-plot-arc relationship between Clara and her teacher colleague Danny Pink, tonight's is a good episode for you. If you prefer monsters and stories, meanwhile, well, there's a monstery thing in there from time to time. There is a new caretaker at Clara's school, one John Smith: he's tall, he's grey, and he speaks with a Scottish accent. But why has the timelord has gone undercover? Seems like the school - indeed humanity itself - is under threat. More importantly, though, what will happen when Clara's Doctor and maths teacher meet and get all jealous? Just keep telling yourself there'll be cybermen soon. And try to forget that there hasn't been a decent cybermen story for around three decades.