Although he has had a show at the Fringe, Alex Salmond is not known for his comedy skills. Your next Netflix video is safe, Kevin Bridges. Buy your mum another bungalow, Peter Kay.

But in the second part of Salmond and Sturgeon: a Troubled Union (BBC Scotland, Wednesday), the former First Minister is the cause of several big laughs. Unintentionally, of course.

“I don’t really do hurt feelings very much,” he says trying to sum up the Salmond-Sturgeon schism, and the fact these two one-time titans of the Scottish political scene are now on “no-speaks”, like a pair of quarrelling teenagers. Hilarious, right?

I won’t spill the beans on the rest of the comedy gold because you will need something to look forward to in what is another trudge through SNP history. A disappointing first part - showing tonight - with little in the way of major revelations, is followed by an underwhelming sequel.

Unfortunately for producer-director Barry Ronan (The Rise and Fall of Boris Johnson, Italia 90: Four Weeks that Changed the World), the most dramatic parts of the Salmond-Sturgeon story have already been captured on film. From Salmond addressing the media outside court, to them both giving evidence to a parliamentary committee, your average Scottish viewer has been there, seen that clip, many times before.

As such they would come to this documentary looking for fresh insight, a new take on old songs. Otherwise why invest the time? Yet there is little here they will not already know or could have surmised.

In the absence of rarely or never seen before archive footage, the series required something else to grab the attention. A strong authorial voice for example. We heard a voice from behind the camera now and then but otherwise Salmond and Sturgeon went unchallenged.

The piece was crying out for a Louis Theroux type to throw a few fireworks around, cause some trouble. As it was, Salmond and Sturgeon, two strong characters and experienced media performers, never once looked like they were on the back foot. I don’t think either would have walked away from filming fearing they had said too much.

Frustratingly, there was some good stuff here, a jewel of a clip, a cheeky edit showing perfect comic timing, a quirky detail, but not enough to sustain 120 minutes. Cutting the series in half would have made it twice as good, but it would still have been a documentary in search of a point.

After two hours, the viewer would have walked away with very little, save for the conclusion that this was one group of people who by and large deserved each other. What a bunch. No surprise there either. And was George Osborne really the only person available that could offer an outside perspective?

Given their history, it would be hard to make a dull film about Salmond and Sturgeon. There is a terrific one out there somewhere; we’ll just have to wait a little longer to see it.