BIFFOVISION (BBC3, Monday 26th March, 3:15am)

Did you know that one particular episode of BBC3 moronedy 'Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps' has been repeated no less than 57 times? Fifty seven times! And, despite this, the only free slot that BBC3 could find to premiere this pilot was at 3:15am, inevitably following a repeat of 2POLAAPOC (it doesn't even abbreviate well). Apparently it had to be screened before April for financial reasons or something, and there wasn't a free slot in the schedule, so they just bunged it out once their regular programming had ended, but crikey: couldn't they have dropped just one of their hundreds of repeats of Two Pints? Or Little Britain? Or any of the other “comedy” that the channel dribbles onto the screen?

It would be a shame if Biffovision doesn't get re-aired in an early time slot, as it certainly deserves a wider audience than the dozens who have seen it so far – however, whether a wider audience will appreciate, understand or enjoy it is up for debate. Writers Paul Rose and Tim Moore may spend most of their time these days writing children's television and travelogues respectively, but it was on much-missed videogames-cum-surreal gibberish teletext page Digitiser that both cut their writing teeth, livening up their games reviews with bizarre characters and nonsensical catchphrases. Biffovision is an attempt to translate Digitiser-style humour from the pages of teletext to television proper.

Much like Vic Reeves Big Night Out, Biffovision appears to be a collection of silly, near-impenetrable in-jokes turned into a low-budget TV programme, and will probably garner a similar reaction: those who like it will love it, but others will feel more confused than amused. Combining the skewed, off-kilter mock-80s feel of Look Around You with the subverted kids' show format of Wonder Showzen, Biffovision is ostensibly a parody of old Saturday morning TV, presented by Mr Hugo (James Lance and his always-punchable face), posh girl co-presenter Peggy (Ingrid Oliver) and obligatory puppet sidekick BW (Simon Greenall). Oliver and Greenall are perfectly cast, delivering the silliest of lines completely deadpan, and while Lance occasionally mis-delivers he certainly shows some promise in the role. Whod've thought?!

The programme is visually impressive. The set is a cross between Swap Shop and Rainbow, the animation on Scranton-K (a re-imagining of Scooby Doo as a naked man with a shoe for a head) is a perfect Hanna-Barbera pastiche right down to the seemingly-random bursts of canned laughter, and the puppets of BW and Mr Safety are both disturbing yet strangely charming.

The attention to detail in Biffovision suggets that it's a labour of love for its writers. The children in the audience have bizarre name badges (“Oil”, “Fear” and “Pleasing M”, for example), and the subliminal messages to 'Vote Conservative' dotted throughout the show are bafflingly amusing. There are also some splendid visual gags, such as the camera pulling away from the cheering audience to reveal that they aren't facing the presenter. It's funnier when you see it, I promise.

However, there is definite room for improvement. Inevitably for a pilot, especially for a sketch show, it's very hit-and-miss. The good includes the teacher who is paranoid that his pupils will be amused by his name (Mr Botton), a sketch that revels in its childishness and that has a completely unpredictable and ridiculous punchline. Among the bad are the designer who creates a new corporate logo by drawing breasts on the old one – a mediocre idea poorly implemented, and hampered by some ropey acting. Some of the sketches sit awkwardly within the context of a spoof children's show, regardless of their quality. Perhaps this is intentional, but it does bring the viewer out of the “reality” of the show (using the word very, very loosely).

There are also times when the influences are perhaps a little too obvious – the sketch about the baby factory is great, but the “let's hope he doesn't grow up to be a racist” punchline reeks strongly of Wonder Showzen, and the ending of a sketch with a Points of View-style letter of complaint may well be a deliberate homage to Python, but it's not a particularly funny one. Perhaps if the show gets a series it will find its own voice – it's already on its way, it just breaks into impressions of the voices of other shows a little too frequently.

Criticisms aside, considering the timescale in which this was thrown together, and the obvious budget constraints, Biffovision is a triumph. My worries that it would descend either into Monkey Dusty over-the-top darkness, or superficially whimsical Booshish rubbish were unfounded, with the balance of silliness (lots) and darkness (the tiniest hints) perfectly judged. It won't be the next Little Britain, and there won't be dolls of BW and Mr Safety in shops (sadly), but it would be perfect for a late-night slot on BBC3. Hopefully, if it does go to series, Rose and Moore will ramp up the absurdity even further, and produce something truly disorientating, incomprehensible and unpredictable. At the very worst, at least it would mean one less slot for Susan Nickson's tripe.