Louis And The Nazis (BBC2); Promoted To Glory (ITV1); LOUIS Theroux's recent documentaries focusing on showbiz celebrities have made us forget that his line of seemingly-nave, bumbling questioning can yield great results in more serious circumstances.

There were times during Louis And The Nazis that he looked distinctly uneasy. In fact, the whole programme made uncomfortable viewing as he sought out committed American neo-Nazis. All very different to following the likes of Paul Daniels and the Hamiltons around.

Some will say that he should never have allowed people like Tom Metzger, probably the most famous Nazi in America, screen time to air their bigoted views. But, quite honestly, you probably wouldn't have believed that people could be capable of being so blatantly and blindly racist unless you saw and heard them with yourself.

Who will be able to forget two angelic-looking, blonde 11-year-olds, Lamb and Lynx, telling of playing a computer game called Ethnic Cleansing and singing songs of hate when not dancing around a swastika drawn on the kitchen floor.

The girls are being raised as racists by their mother, April Gaede. Theroux challenged her on this issue but failed to pursuade her that she was doing anything wrong. Apart from anything else, April finds other races "annoying" and reckons that "99 per cent are not pretty, attractive".

Theroux ran into trouble himself when he visited a family of skinheads. They wanted to know if he was Jewish. He refused to say. When he returned later to a skinhead rally where Metzger was making a speech, he said he "felt like the schoolkid no one wanted to be friends with".

He got along better with Metzger, who turned out to get drunk like the rest of us and worked as a TV repair man. Despite his avowed hatred of non-whites, he appeared to have friends of a non-white persuasion and enjoyed the fruits of a multi-cultural society. Hardly what you expect from one of the most famous and dangerous racists in America.

"I think you're a hypocrite," Theroux told Metzger quite bluntly - and surprisingly didn't get a punch on the nose for his comment.

Brotherly love was very apparent in Promoted To Glory, Rob Heyland's Christmas-time story about an alcoholic tramp who finds hope in the ranks of the Salvation Army.

After being knocked down by a bus, he falls for the Sally Army woman (Lesley Manville) who saves him. He goes into detox and even joins the Army to be close to her.

Producer Kenith Trodd has worked on Dennis Potter's dramas, and some of that playwright's tricks seemed to have rubbed off here. The cast burst into song and God appeared in fantasy scenes. There was also a twist in the tale that most people will have seen coming a mile off.

What kept Promoted To Glory - the title refers to the Salvation Army term for dying - from becoming sentimental and preposterous was the acting, notably the great Ken Stott as the reformed vagrant.

And here, for once, was a TV drama that dared to be different from the usual run of cops, medics and, at this time of the year, tinsel-trimmed specials that aren't special at all.

Published: 22/12/2003