THERE can be no clearer case of art mirroring life than Hogmanay telly. Come on, we tell ourselves, it can’t be as bad as last year, and there’s always Jools to fall back on in case of emergency. Off we go, like so many Aardman animated lambs to the slaughter, into the cultural carnage and crushing disappointment. Happy New Year!

At least on the commercial channels there is not much pretending that this year’s offerings are going to be better than the last ones the cat dragged in. Bringing in the Bells (STV, Hogmanay) brought together a range of “couples”, Gogglebox-style, to sit on sofas and talk about the events of the year.

There was weatherman Sean Batty and whoseherface, Gail Porter and thingamy, a couple of Still Gamers, all topped off by Lorraine Kelly narrating. I wouldn’t say it looked pre-recorded, but Sean was wearing Speedos.

Just as the BBC replaced Susan Calman with Edith Bowman as its female face of Hogmanay, the topical gag spot previously occupied by Only an Excuse was taken up by a new sketch show, Queen of the New Year (BBC1, Hogmanay).

Written by Greg Hemphill and Robert Florence, it had a cast and crew of thousands. While it was jolly decent of Rishi Sunak to give every comic actor in Scotland a job for Christmas – including John Gordon Sinclair – there was not a laugh to be had. As an attempt at a Scottish Fast Show this was slooooooooow and painful. Thank the Lord that Scot Squad (BBC1, Hogmanay) stuck to a tried, tested, funny formula.

Goodwill to all programme makers had already been tested by Mrs Brown’s Boys (BBC1, Christmas Day). Brendan O’Carroll’s comedy, always an acquired taste, has been coasting for years. The scripts now sound like first drafts, with some lines so weak you want to throw a blanket around them and feed them a bowl of soup. Mrs Brown: “Hello Winnie, I’ve just made a pot. Do you want some?” Winnie: “I don’t do drugs.”

Mrs B had a stab at current affairs with mention of the lockdown. “Yes the streets were empty, but our hearts were full.” I don't think Charlie Brooker (Death to 2021, Netflix) has anything to worry about.

The Great British Dig: History in Your Back Garden (More4, December 29) visited Falkirk. As anyone who remembers Brookside knows, "digging round the back" can throw up some horrible surprises. Here, the neighbours seemed only too delighted, though that might have been something to do with the presence of Hugh Dennis, presenter/everyone’s favourite teacher.

The archaeologists zeroed in on homes they thought were built on top of a Roman fort and began scraping away through history.

The trouble with archaeology programmes is that they over promise and under deliver. While some might get excited at the sight of a shard of pottery, some of us are holding out for a fully preserved Roman soldier, clutching instructions on how to instal underfloor heating.

Sarah Phelps once again provided the best drama of the season in A Very British Scandal (BBC1, Boxing Day-Tuesday). This time her characters owed nothing to Agatha Christie’s imagination but sprang from fact, namely the bitter divorce battle between the Duke and Duchess of Argyll.

This was a modern, feminist account of the “Dirty Duchess”, as the press dubbed her. It looked beyond the still infamous “headless man” photograph featuring Margaret Campbell (played by Clare Foy) to examine her marriage to Ian Campbell (Paul Bettany) and its disintegration. Never a solid union, this pair were headed for unhappiness from the off.

Early on it was hard to say who was more beastly: the arrogant, spendthrift Duke, or the sour Duchess. If pushed, one would have to choose the Duke, both in his own right and as a representative of the times. “Excessively punitive and spiteful” was her lawyer’s description of the Duke’s legal action; it also summed up the treatment of the Duchess by society and the law in general. It was the patriarchy wot done for Margaret, in the courts and the press, with the blunt instrument of misogyny.

The odd heavy-handed moment aside (the Duke and his pinned butterflies, the newspaper called the “Daily Tabloid”) this was engrossing, stylishly executed drama, with Foy and Bettany terrific as the pair locked in a doomed embrace. Awards to follow.

The three part drama ended with a photo of the real Margaret several decades later. There she sat, with nothing but a poodle by her side, and very together she looked too. I don’t suppose this photo will ever supplant the other – this sympathetic drama, ironically, will have seen

to that – but it was a nice try all the same.