Coupling: The Complete Seasons 1-4

Steven Moffat's second season is a brilliant consolidation of all those neuroses, small deceits, obsessions, and personality tics that struck such a resonant chord when Steve, Susan, and their four friends were first unleashed on us. Comparisons with Friends itself are tiresome and lazy: Coupling is an intrinsically British comedy that picks apart the trivial and the mundane in everyday relationships and takes them on surreal journeys, leaving the participants hilariously bemused and rarely any wiser. Its success is due to the magical combination of Moffat's very funny scripts and the talents of six extremely likable actors, including Jack Davenport (Steve) and Sarah Alexander (Susan). But it's Richard Coyle's Jeff whose sexual fantasies exert a compelling fascination that will really keep you watching in disbelief. Breasts, bottoms and pants are the basis for most of the conversational analysis when these friends get together as a group, as couples, as girlfriends, or as mates, invariably becoming metaphors for the state of a relationship or situation. Individual viewpoints and terrors are explored through respective memories of the same event and what-if scenarios. Chain reactions inevitably ensue, fuelling comedy that is based almost entirely on misunderstanding.

The third series of Coupling, first aired in 2002, takes fans into new realms of engaging surrealism. The men are constantly in pursuit of a basic grasp of the "emotional things" that make women behave the way they do. The women analyze everything to death. But thanks to Steve Moffat's scripts, tighter and quirkier than ever, these characters are living, breathing human beings rather than cynical ciphers for comedy stereotypes. The performances are as strong as you'd expect from an established team, with actors such as Jack Davenport, Ben Miles (unreconstructed chauvinist Patrick), Sarah Alexander, and Kate Isitt (neurotic Sally) wearing their roles like second skins. But in the surreal stakes, it's Richard Coyle as Jeff, wondering aloud what happens to jelly after women have finished wrestling in it, and Gina Bellman as Jane, musing on the importance of a first snog in identifying what men like to eat, who really raise the laughter levels. All things considered, this is superior comedy for all thirtysomethings--genuine and putative.

Series 4: Feel free to insert your own "four-play" joke, or for that matter, your own "insert" joke. Sex is still topic 1 for the intertwined group of "exes and best friends," but in this pivotal season there are momentous "relationship issues" that will upend all their lives (insert your own "upend" joke while you're at it). Susan is pregnant, inspiring in Steve nightmares about his own execution and unflattering comparisons of the birth process to John Hurt's iconic gut-busting scene in Alien. Missing in action is the Kramer-esque Jeff (although he makes something of a return in the season finale). Joining the ensemble is Oliver, who is more in the Chandler mode as a lovable loser with the ladies. These inevitable comparisons to "Sein-Friends" are no doubt heresy to Coupling's most devoted viewers. Indeed, this series does benefit from creator and sole writer Steven Moffat's comic voice and vision. He provides his ever-game cast some witty, funny-'cause-it's-true dialogue, as in Oliver's observation that "Tea isn't compatible with porn." This Britcom is also less inhibited in language and sexual situations than its American counterparts. In the cleverly-constructed opening episode, in which the same "9-1/2 Minutes" are witnessed from three different perspectives, Sally and Jane can do what was left to the imagination when Monica and Rachel offered to make out in front of Joey and Chandler. The birth of Susan and Steven's baby ends the six-episode season on a satisfying and surprisingly moving grace note. A bonus disc takes viewers behind the scenes with segments devoted to bloopers and interviews with cast and crew.