FUNNIEST joke ever? You could start a fight anywhere over that one. Few would quibble, however, over the inclusion of an Eric Morecambe classic on any shortlist.

The scene: two gentlemen in bed, night. One goes to the window and looks out just as a vehicle tears past, sirens blaring. “He’s not going to sell much ice cream going at that speed, is he?” asks Morecambe of Wise.

Hear it as often as you like, the line, written by the great Eddie Braben, never fails. Chances are you have seen it many times, given how frequently the shows are repeated. Who could resist then, a programme with the title Morecambe and Wise: the Lost Tapes (STV, Wednesday, 9pm)?

It was feared the episode in question, from 8 October 1970, had been erased and would never be seen again. Then last year, Morecambe’s son, Gary, discovered an old film can without a label in the attic of the family home and sent its contents off for processing. There it was, the lost tape.

Shot in black and white, it is a significant find not just because the episode completes the set. This was the first show the double act made for BBC1 after four series on BBC2. It was their leap to prime time, the big chance. Get this right and the door was open to audiences in the tens of millions.

ITN Productions brings together Morecambe’s family and a gaggle of famous fans to see the lost episode. We watch them watching it, Gogglebox-style.

Other clips provide a snapshot of the duo’s career, and various talking heads, from Ben Miller to Jonathan Ross, comment on the comedy craft at work. Jokes that were to become regulars – the paper bag, the curtains – are here in their infancy. The analysis part may not seem that enticing. After all, nothing kills a joke like trying to explain it. Miller, though, knows his stuff and is clearly a superfan.

Sitcoms in the Morecambe and Wise era arguably had it easier. With fewer channels and less choice, even the duffers, and there were a few, could pull in decent enough viewing figures. Into today’s crowded market comes the second series of King Gary (BBC1, Friday, 9.30pm).

James de Frond and Tom Davis’s comedy is on the face of it a highly traditional affair. Set in suburbia somewhere Dahn South, it has two generations of the one family living close to each other. Big Gary (dad, played by Simon Day, The Fast Show) and Little Gary (Tom Davis, Murder in Successville) run a building firm. Alongside their dad/son disputes is a wife/mother-in-law rivalry, and a needy neighbour (Romesh Ranganathan) popping up every episode. Nothing new there, but the characters, broad brush as they are, are full of surprises, there are some terrific turns (I’d watch Davis in anything), and the sheer over the top feel and silliness makes it laugh out loud funny in parts.

The publicity blurb for Chris Packham: the Walk That Made Me (BBC2, Wednesday, 8pm) promised a glimpse of the naturalist and broadcaster “as you’ve never seen him before”. Really, I wondered, having watched his candid and moving 2017 documentary Asperger’s and Me? In this new film, Packham traces a walk he used to go on with his father many years ago, along the River Itchin and Itchin Navigation in Hampshire. This was where the young Chris was introduced to the natural world, a place that would become a source of solace and well-being as his Asperger’s took hold.

Walking shows are hardly new. What distinguishes this one is that Packham films himself with a hand-held 360 degree camera instead of having the usual crew in tow. Though he meets people along the way, there is a sense of solitariness which, along with the physical prompts, does indeed bring back memories. Not all of them are good.

Those moments aside, this is a joyous film. Yes, he talks about the great loss of his dogs in the past and the heartache to come with his new companions, about getting older (he’s 60 believe it or not), and his struggles with Asperger’s. Yet he throws himself into chatting with people, quotes from his favourite poems, and recalls the lighter side of things (his poor mum’s infamously dry cake comes in for some teasing).

Packham is at his happiest when he meets a woman walking her poodle, Molly. Great to meet you, he tells Molly. There are some wild swimmers too, and families out for their own nature walks. Along the way captions show the viewer what is what, and if they don’t, Packham supplies the info.

He speaks so personally here, he explains, because he fears there are youngsters out there just like he was, feeling lost and alone, especially during the horrible year and a half we have all had. “The more of your life you can control the better it gets,” says Packham. A wonderful hour I was sorry to see end.