Devil worship

THE rule that children should be seen and not heard is ignored by Tim Loane, writer of the new comedy-drama Little Devil. The whole thing is told through the eyes of Oliver, who describes his place in the Crowe family as an "afterthought".

He and best friend Zoe, daughter of his parents' best friends, are a darn sight more grown-up than some of the adults in this marital mess-up.

Robson Green plays head teacher Will Crowe, whose best friend Adrian (James Wilby), it emerges during this opening episode, is having an affair with Laura, Mrs Crowe (Maggie O'Neill). Adrian's wife Katie (Emily Joyce) is fonder of the bottle than her philandering husband, and who can blame her?

The children realise their parents are having an affair - or "doing it with someone else" as Oliver puts it - long before the injured parties, Will and Katie.

The youngsters conspire to keep their mums and dads under the same roof. Not easy after seeing Will and Katie kiss. "Was that a normal kiss or a doing-it kiss," wonders Oliver, proving that you really shouldn't do this sort of thing in front of the children.

All this family upset is affecting his school behaviour. When his teacher asks in class what he's looking forward to as an adult, he replies: "Blow jobs in cars", repeating what he'd heard Adrian tell Will about his latest affair (without mentioning the woman involved was Mrs Crowe).

Little Devil skims along pleasantly enough, although no one can quite make up their minds if it's comedy or drama. But you'll be hard pressed not to agree with Oliver who, after witnessing parents behaving badly, comes to the conclusion that "grown-ups are really weird".

My New Home returns to see how three children who came to live in the UK a year ago are getting on. Fortunately, for the sake of making an interesting documentary, the trio of 12-year-olds have settled in with varying success.

Altynany, who moved from Kyrgyzstan to a village in South Yorkshire where there are hardly any immigrants, has made impressive progress. From someone who couldn't speak a word of English, she's now fluent and has taken to watching Russian soap operas to retain her knowledge of her first language.

Imran is another matter. He swapped Pakistan for Peterborough but resists learning English. His only interest is cricket and he couldn't find anyone to play with him. The other Pakistani children in the area regarded him as a bit of a joke because he refused to adopt Western dress. He had stones thrown at him in the street.

By the end of his first year, he seems to be adapting better, not least because he's found some friends to play cricket with. He likes it better at school, he says, but would still like to go back to Pakistan.

On the other hand, Marshal has more friends, including girlfriends, than he can cope with, having moved from Zimbabwe to Tyneside. The entire class turns up to his birthday party and he's picked for the school football team.

From these snapshots of their first year - 12 months crammed into 50 minutes is asking a lot - they all seem now to be balancing, as the programme puts it, the pull of their old homes with the opportunities their new country can offer them.

No children are seen in Kitchen Criminals, an anti-cookery series that's searching for the country's worst cooks. The competition is fierce judging by the procession of half-cooked, over-cooked, unappetising food offerings brought along to test the taste buds of real chefs, John Burton Race and Angela Hartnett.

The four worst are chosen each day before being sent off to cooking boot camp, although some already seem to have mastered cooking old boots.

"I'd rather die than eat that," says Race surveying one offering. The comment could have been applied to any of the dishes. A child could cook better.