BEING a humble television critic I do not make a habit of questioning the giants of world literature. That said, I’m afraid I would have to summon Tolstoy outside the pub for a word about families.

It is not the case, as the master said, that each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. There tends to be, in television drama anyway, a set menu of grievances from which they choose.

In the case of Flesh and Blood (STV, Monday-Thursday) the dish of the day was “widowed mum takes up with new love, leaving children fearing for their inheritance”.

Sarah Williams’ drama was a sly fox. A dark thriller set on the sun-dappled Sussex coast, it had some laugh out loud moments, particularly when nosy neighbour Mary (Imelda Staunton), pal to the now merry widow Vivien (Francesca Annis), entered the fray.

Vivien had a new “friend” in retired surgeon Mark (Stephen Rea), but her children, and Mary, were not quite sure about the cut of his jib, what with his buying her a sports car and whisking her off to France for lunch. A right wrong ‘un, clearly.

The tale started with a figure being taken to hospital, but who was it and why? For four nights in a row we watched the secrets and lies build up till all was revealed, and satisfyingly so.

There were times when Flesh and Blood ventured perilously close to a parody of a peak time thriller, but it pulled back just at the last minute, leaving the viewer delighted by its daring.

It is quite the achievement on the part of the real House of Windsor to be more outrageous than its comedy version in The Windsors (Channel 4, Tuesday, above). Kudos to writers Bert Tyler-Moore and George Jeffrie for keeping pace with the goings-on and, in some instances, being ahead of the curve. It was all here – the falling out of the fab four, Megxit, Andrew – and bang up to date. They even managed to get a giggle out of a new actor playing Harry (“You look different!”; “I feel different!”).

I can’t decide which is my favourite character between Camilla (back from Mustique “because I ran out of fags”); Meghan, or “Mugan”, banging on about wellness and avocados; or the spectacularly dim princesses Bea and Eugenie, who surely deserve their own series.

Charles and his siblings were going on strike for more money and the country was at war with itself over Brexit. A portrait of Queen Victoria (Miriam Margolyes) advised Wills to get a grip. “We had an empire. We had half the world. Doesn’t look as if you’re even going to hang on to Scotland,” she scolded.

By episode end the strike was over and Wills and Kate had found a way to bring the country together. Will the peace last? What do you think?

Second time around couple Alan and Celia (Anne Reid and Derek Jacobi), the duo at the heart of Last Tango in Halifax (BBC1, Sunday), are coming up for seven years married. Time for an itch, or in their case a bitch at each other. As the fifth series opened, both wanted different things: Celia a designer kitchen in their fab new bungalow, and Alan a job on the checkout at the local supermarket.

Alan’s daughter Gillian (Nicola Walker) had money worries. Again. Sigh. Which is exactly how Celia felt. Her reaction when she found out that Alan would be paying to have Gillian’s woodworm sorted (the woodworm was in the roof, not Gillian) was a masterclass in less is more acting. She sat there at the dining table, a volcano of resentment, ready to blow. And she did. Between Sally Wainwright’s writing, and the quality of the cast, any one of whom could headline a drama on their own, Last Tango in Halifax looks set to whirl a while yet.

So to the final family of the week, the Arderns. The who, you say? The latest in the living history show sent the Ardern family from Sheffield Back in Time for the Corner Shop (BBC2, Tuesday). The drill was the same: kit the subjects out in the garb of the day, put them into a setting, race through the years charting changes along the way, while Sara Cox and a social historian bob up every now and then for a chat.

The production team took over a derelict store and transformed it into Ardern and Son, purveyor of food stuffs in the Victorian era, the age when the corner shop was born to feed the toiling urban masses.

Dad had a great time playing shopkeeper, while poor old mum and daughter were stuck in the kitchen trying to make something edible out of shredded wheat, butter and Marmite (they failed).

It was a fascinating show packed with goodies, such as the tale of the giant cheese that was wheeled up to Glasgow for the opening of the new Lipton’s store. The crowds queued round the block for a look at “Jumbo” and the shop sold out in just two hours. Stick that in your suggestion box, Waitrose.