At last Heroes has returned. We’re into the third series. But God knows what I’m going to say about it.

Not from any lack of opinion or regard, you understand. The show is still a mile-high tower of amethysts, in a world where people get excited by knee-high bundles of brushwood. But it’s all so complicated. And I don’t want to give anything away. And I still don’t quite understand what’s happening at any given moment, either – which is, to be fair, part of the reason why the show’s so hot in the first place.

This is a drama, after all, that’s quite happy – comfortable, even – to narrate from three or four different places in space and time. Everyone’s turning out to be related to each other – a bit like Dynasty, but with the DNA conferring the ability to shoot electricity out of your eyes, rather than the ability to have extremely large hair. And the complex Apocalypse! There’s always a complex Apocalypse looming in Heroes. This time, it’s some mysterious high-speed death cloud; which looks like it needs at least 12 hour-long episodes of quality television chucked at it before it disperses.

To make matters worse, Peter Petrelli (or IS it him?) has thrown space-time into confusion by teleporting back from the future (or IS it the future?), causing rampant butterfly effect all over everyone’s lives (OR ARE THEY ALL REALLY DEAD AND IT’S A DREAM?).

Now the Cheerleader’s had her brain unzipped by the evil, mono-browed Sylar (not a scene to watch while eating rice pudding and jam, FYI) – meaning he’s totally back on that old “superhero serial killer” plan. And, most importantly of all, a dungeon full of VILLAIN heroes has been emptied on to the streets of Manhattan – who, with their flame-throwing hands, etc, almost certainly aren’t planning to cruise by the deli, pick up a couple of dill-pickle sandwiches and then check out the Rothkos at MoMA. No. They’re totally going to go and kick the good Heroes’ asses – with choreographed fight sequences, explosions, and the most well-appointed and devious of plot twists.

So, as you can see, it doesn’t really matter if there’s going to be a world-wide depression, does it? It’s not going to affect TELLY. There will still be Heroes.

Of course, if you’re looking for a bit less thrill and a little more cheer, you might, mistakenly, be looking to Sunshine to fill up an evening. However, while it might star Steve Coogan, and have been written and directed by Craig “Royle Family” Cash, you must stop expecting a comedy. No good will come of it. Sunshine is, instead, a “bittersweet drama”, set in a Hovis-ad-mellow village in the North.

So here we have Steve Coogan as “Bing” Crosby, almost permanently weak-eyed and disabled from a couple of pints, and heading towards a decade of letting down his girlfriend Bernadette (Lisa Millett from Blackpool) and his nine-year-old son. His big problem is that not only is he addicted to gambling, but he’s also a resolutely ungifted gambler, too – with relatively little money to devote to his hobby, what with being a work-shy binman and all.

In his latest role, the long-simmering Problem With Steve Coogan finally reaches a point of genuine national concern. Good God – can’t we, as a country, find something suitable for the best comic actor of the past 20 years? The man who should be this country’s Steve Martin or Bill Murray is, instead, faffing around with this wholly forgettable straight role: playing some resolutely uninteresting “local character” who does little more than sing karaoke and face an “emotional journey” straight out of a bad episode of Holby City.

Coogan is too good for this Lilliputian twaddle. Give him a character that’s devious, swashbuckling, epically flawed (Tony Wilson in 24 Hour Party People, A Cock and Bull Story, Alan Partridge, obviously) and he can go to town on it. With some Legoy piece of nothing like Bing, however, his heart’s not in it. He barely acts above Gas Mark 5. His eyes have far too much energy and ambition to be this binman loser with Lee Evans impressions where charisma should be.

Craig Cash scarcely does any better. In many places Sunshine turns outright mawkish. The only good bits are where Cash has forgotten that he is writing a “bittersweet drama” and has just written an old-fashioned gag instead. But they’re few and far between – leaving us with dragging chunks of time to ruminate on how Coogan, in Sunshine, is like watching electricity curdling on a tray.

Heroes continues Wed, BBC Two, 9pm; Sunshine, Tues, BBC One, 9pm

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