Unless, of course, you've read the Kate Atkinson novel it's based on - in that case you'll be right across this.

So for people like me, the series is about Ursula Todd, who dies and then goes back to her birth to start her life all over again.

Each time, Ursula subconsciously remembers what killed her and works to avoid that.

But of course, something else ends up killing her some time after that.

That leads to a degree of predictability in the storyline; she dies and you know next time she'll get past that moment but come a cropper somewhere else along the line.

This show gives me the impression that I'm supposed to know who host Fred Sireix is.

Other people in this show get excited about seeing him so I guess that means he is someone.

According to Google, he's appeared on I'm A Celebrity ... Get Me Out of Here - so obviously he's not a nobody. Though granted, sometimes the talent on that last show is barely a cut above nobody status.

But I have no idea who he is. Never seen him before in my life.

Guess he must be big in the UK. At least big enough to con a TV network into paying him to travel around the world for five seasons, eating the food in places like Venice, Paris, Marrakesh and, erm Yorkshire.

In this episode, Dermot O'Leary (don't know who he is either) takes Fred around a few restaurants in Italian region of Puglia.

And Dermot loves to try and show off his knowledge of the local cuisine; though to be honest, he comes across as someone who learned a few things and now believes he knows it all.

Just when I thought we'd shaken off the cultural cringe and stopped getting all excited because some famous person from another country paid some attention to us, something comes along to change my mind.

For ages, any time we had some sort of awards night or other big event, we'd have to arrange for some big-name star from the United States or Europe to turn up.

Because somehow having a celebrity who probably hardly thought of Australia at all made us feel special - "My God, they know who we are!".

That's the feeling I was left with after watching this all-Australian roast of John Cleese, a man whose best work is a long, long, long way back in the rearview mirror.

Despite this, there is quite a fawning character to this show, which is out of step with what is supposed to happen in a roast - you're supposed to relentlessly insult the guest.

It's as though, for the most part, the Australian comics feel a bit awed that someone who used to be famous deigned to come to our country, so we have to be super nice to them.

Even on a show where they're supposed to do the complete opposite.

So most of the show is spent listening to each comic insult each of the other comedians in turn, while largely avoiding Cleese himself.

And everyone - Cleese included - turns their fake laughs up to 10.