A Gentleman in Moscow (Paramount+, Friday), an adaptation of Amor Towles’ beloved novel, was a prime case of “tread softly …” if ever there was one. Get the casting of Count Rostov wrong and you might as well not bother with the rest of it, so central is the Russian aristocrat to the tale’s vibe.

Ewan McGregor took up the challenge, moustache and all, and succeeded handsomely. There’s a twinkle in McGregor’s eye that’s been desperate for an outing for a while now (as far back as Trainspotting, perhaps?), and here he had the chance to let it loose. Props also to the designers who bring the Hotel Metropole to life, every nook, cranny and secret staircase.

If there is snow, a lady cop in a parka, bodies and bleak comedy it must be Fargo, right? I can see why you might come to that conclusion, Columbo. Passenger (STV, Sunday-Monday) has all those ingredients but there is more to it, for good or maybe not so good.

The good starts with the central character, DI Riya Ajunwa, played by Wunmi Mosaku. After ten years in the Met, the Lancashire hamlet of Chadder Vale, where incidents include a missing ladder, a missing bin, and a cat with a cough, holds little allure for Riya. And that’s before you get to the Baltic weather and everything generally being a bit rubbish. Chadder Vale, says the village welcome sign, is “a place where everyone matters” but nothing seems to happen.

But if you look closely there could be something weird in the woodshed. Two women have gone missing, one of whom turns up again with a bad cough (bet you it was that bloody cat), something/someone is being smuggled in and out of town, and a stag and a sheep have been mutilated. Plus, the local wrong ‘un is out of jail and looking for revenge.

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Passengers is written by Andrew Buchan, an actor who has been in everything from Broadchurch to The Crown and paid attention to what makes a hit. There is an immediate slickness to the drama, a sense that we are in safe hands here, but it’s short on funny lines for a supposed drama-comedy. The ones it has reference other shows (“This is not Broadchurch”; “You’re like Vera, boss”), which is rarely a good sign.

Since the first sight of Clive Myrie and Lyse Doucet broadcasting from a rooftop in Kyiv we have grown used to thinking of the war in Ukraine as it affects cities. Most of the fighting, however, takes place in rural areas, where lives are lost in vast numbers to hold the line or gain a few more metres on the map.

The shocking reality of life on the frontline was hinted at in Ukraine: Enemy in the Woods (BBC2, Monday). I say hinted because as harrowing and revealing as this documentary was, you left it with the feeling that there was worse, much worse, that the viewer was spared.

Jamie Roberts’ film followed a single Ukrainian assault company defending a 500 metre section of railway line running through Kupyansk forest. The soldiers were equipped with body-worn cameras which meant the viewer could see what the troops were seeing as they scrambled from one foxhole to another, dodging bullets and shells. From above, drone cameras pictured the moment when grenades were dropped on enemy positions.

Viewed through these and more conventional lenses, war looked nothing like a video game. It looked like hell. Cold, brutal, unforgiving hell. The soldiers spoke of life when war was over, of getting back to their families. One had been learning to drive before the war, now he was leading troops into battle, at just 19-years-old.

This was a once seen, never forgotten work, the most extraordinary film I’ve seen since the Oscar-winning 20 Days in Mariupol.

Big Mood (Channel 4, Thursday) is a comedy with a rather large problem. We first meet Maggie (Nicola Coughlan, the wee one in Derry Girls) as she is zooming down a road on a scooter, blowing kisses to passersby and the world. Maggie, as the young folk say, is “living her best life”. Except it’s not that simple. Maggie has a mood disorder, and when she is up she is UP and when she is down she is subterranean.

Here’s the problem: can mental illness ever be funny if it is portrayed accurately? I’m reminded of that line from David Brent as he introduces the accounts department in The Office. “Do not be fooled by their job descriptions, they are absolutely mad, all of 'em. Especially that one, he's mental. Not literally of course, that wouldn't work. Last place you'd want someone like that is in accounts.”

It can be done - see Ricky Gervais’s other classic, After Life, or Aisling Bea’s This Way Up - but it’s a tightrope walk in a gale. Maggie’s “down” seems to consist of having a messy flat and not speaking so quickly, though she can still fire off witty comments.

Two episodes in I was still struggling to buy it. A pity, because West and Coughlan make a great pairing.