Mandy (BBC Two) is a curious creation, and this is a curious Christmas special. Diane Morgan’s short, tart comedy series arrived in the middle of 2020 with a sideways pout, an outstanding roster of northern royalty guest stars and six episodes that barely stretched to 15 minutes each. The first series was best watched in one sitting: lumping it all together gave it more heft than watching it in short snatches. By the end of the series, I started to feel as if I got the tone and had locked on to the dry, edge-of-surreal mood of it. Morgan is, of course, a brilliant comedy performer. From Philomena Cunk half-arsing her way around Britain, to Liz puncturing the middle-class uppityness of her fellow parents in Motherland, her characters possess the ability to turn a deadpan line or a withering putdown into a lethal weapon. Mandy isn’t dry or droll, as such. She flops around town getting herself into scrapes, while smoking and ensuring her beehive remains perfectly perched. That is about the extent of it, although if you see each episode as an extended run-up to an outrageous, over-the-top gag, then its pace starts to make more sense. Whether Mandy is killing several members of the public due to negligent banana processing, watching a death by glitter ball or taking part in a wedding with a Shaun Ryder cameo, you mostly watch to see how bizarre the ending will be. She will be back for a second series next year, but, for now, here is a festive instalment. Mandy, you won’t be surprised to learn, does not like Christmas. She doesn’t seem to like much of anything – but Christmas, in particular, grinds her gears. “Christmas is just a con to make the poor feel poorer and the rich feel smug,” she says, as she gets her nails done on Christmas Eve by her one true friend, Lola. Mandy hates how commercialised it is, hates black-and-white films, hates turkey and hates bread sauce. I was ready to take umbrage at this point, as I beg to differ, but it does explain why she feels this way in great detail later on – and, well, fair enough. Rather than celebrate in any meaningful fashion, Mandy would rather get sozzled alone on the sofa in front of Die Hard, with nothing but a bottle of Tia Maria for company. Nevertheless, Lola gives her the gift of a video doorbell, so she can see who is at the door without having to get up to do so. This present kicks off a (Marley’s) chain of events that very closely resemble A Christmas Carol. As always, the guest actors are impeccable: Johnny Vegas, Pearce Quigley and John Cooper Clarke are on ghostly duties, as past, present and Christmas to come. It also leans heavily on a sitcom staple that is always worth a go when it flashes back to Mandy’s teenage years and the origins of her dislike of Christmas. This isn’t so much about clever quips or witty one‑liners as it is about physicality; Morgan’s ability to bend and twist her creation into shape makes Mandy instantly recognisable. She has an easy way with her co-stars; watching her and John Cooper Clarke – or someone who claims to look very much like him – sit and consider having a fag while the world carries on around them makes me think there is an alternative Christmas special in that. I would love to see Morgan and Cooper Clarke sitting and watching stuff for far more than 15 minutes. As is the way with Mandy, it settles for building up to one proper, belly laugh of a visual gag – and it really did make me laugh, for its sheer, outrageous silliness. This being Christmas, though, it eschews the usual catastrophic ending and opts not to add to the Mandy body count. There is an argument to be made that Mandy does have a bit of a heart, buried quite deeply under those fluffy jumpers of hers, but here it is allowed to wriggle its way closer to the surface. It is the season, after all. It still has an unusual pace to it. It feels stretched out yet crammed in, slight and overstuffed, with some scenes feeling as if they run on too long and others as if they needed more polishing. But that sense of being bent out of shape can add to the surreal cartoonishness of it – and it does continue the sense that Mandy is unlike anything else on TV. In fact, it has much in common with Tia Maria, Mandy’s choice of festive tipple. It is camp, retro and enjoyable for a glass or two, but you probably don’t need much more than that.