LET’S talk about multitasking. Hang on a mo’ while I turn off the vacuum cleaner and chip pan and put down this paintbrush. Right-o. Anyone watching the documentary George Michael: Freedom (Channel 4) would have been familiar with the art of doing several things at the same time; in this case, wiggling the shoulders to a beat while padding down memory lane, totting up how many terrific songs Michael had written and performed.

Freedom was another George Michael production, but one that he was destined not to deliver to the screen. After the singer’s death, that task was left to his friend and co-director, David Austin. The film, inevitably, became an unabashed tribute, with the faults to prove it. There was nothing, for example, about the later, reclusive stages of his life. It was left to the music pros, Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Nile Rodgers and producer Mark Ronson, to best sum up Michael’s artistry, and to Elton to explain his wider appeal. “People genuinely adore George. It’s not just the music, they feel for him and his struggles.”

We never saw the 53-year-old George whose death was announced on Boxing Day, 2016. Instead, we had a lookalike sitting at a typewriter, his back to the camera. There was added poignancy, this time for viewers in Scotland, when a clip from Extras was played with Michael, Ricky Gervais and the late Gerard Kelly playing a trio on a Hampstead Heath bench. Besides musical talent, George was blessed with a sense of humour. Even after all these years, his lampooning of the LAPD in the video for Outside never fails to raise a giggle.

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QI (BBC One) has been on the go for 14 series now and is back for more. Judging by its longevity, and the studio audience’s delirium, it is hugely popular, though for the life of me I cannot see why. Hosted by Sandi Toksvig (clearly not earning enough from Bake-off) it brought together three crusty male comedians and Claudia Winkleman (ditto Strictly) to supply witty answers to cryptic questions. The panellists were having a giddy old time as Toksvig put on her best exasperated teacher look, but the biggest puzzler of all was what they all found so hilarious. This was like being trapped, stone cold sober, in an unending nightmare of Home Counties folk playing parlour games at Christmas. After half an hour of this, two letters came to mind and they were not QI.

Next week, Chris Packham will be back on his usual all creatures great and small beat as Autumnwatch returns. In Chris Packham: Asperger’s and Me (BBC Two) the subject to be explored was Chris Packham. He was uneasy with the gig from the off, and no wonder. Though the filmmakers felt it necessary to “do the science bit” and take him to the US to look at various attempts to treat autism, this was an intensely personal, sometimes brutally honest piece. For someone who earns a living from their upbeat persona it was a risky venture, but one that ultimately did him credit.

Now, as you all know, TV is so fandabbydozy these days it is better than the movies. You got that memo, right? When it comes to Mindhunter (Netflix) you may be inclined to believe the hype. Directed by David Fincher of Zodiac fame, this drama about the FBI’s early attempts to find out what goes on in the mind of a serial killer is so good they premiered the first two episodes at the London Film Festival recently.

Still not persuaded? Then settle down as newby agent Holden Ford and his veteran partner Bill Tench play Holmes and Watson around some very scary dudes. Set in the late 1970s and shot with immaculate attention to detail, Mindhunter manages to be as funny as it is smart which, given the subject matter, is no mean feat. Not for the fainthearted, though. Some crime scene photos, once seen, can never be unseen.

Liar (STV) began with a warning: “Contains scenes that some viewers might find upsetting.” To which someone should have added, “or utterly, gob-smackingly unbelievable”.

The finale to this “did she lie/did he rape her” drama kept the far-fetched twists coming. From a thoughtful opening episode, all subtlety has drained from this series. By the end, Ioan Gruffudd’s bad guy surgeon was doing everything bar twirling a handlebar moustache while cackling villainously. The female characters, who felt compelled to do their own detective work (atta way to boost already low levels of confidence in the judicial system), kept having frantic conversations along the lines of “I have to do this”, “No you don’t”. Ridiculous to the last, even the ending tried to leave the door open to another series. You don’t have to do it folks, you really don’t.