PROBABLY best you don't get stuck in to Lost (Channel 4, Wednesday, 8.30pm) then.

Apparently, this tale of 48 people stranded on a desert island after a plane crash is the "new Desperate Housewives". I wouldn't say that.

Sure, there's a hunky doctor (the new gardener, folks) and a few nice ladies dotted around, but you can't really compare the two.

The first thing that springs to mind is that this really should be a film. It reads like your classic Hollywood action disaster: A fit doctor, a pregnant blonde, a sunbathing whinger, a fat lad who will probably turn out to be a hero, an ex-con who's good with electronics and a junkie rock star. Oh, and an island beast that wants to eat everyone.

Get your head around all that, though, and Lost is real "get the steel pants out" stuff.

And, as the survivors' political beliefs and religions enter the script, it really moves past that "cheesy disaster" tag at pace. Quality stuff.

As well as being somewhat overshadowed by the nail-biting cricket, the World Athletics Championships (BBC1 and 2, all week) only managed to reach a light jog rather than a sprint.

The events themselves simply reinforced the obvious - that Great Britain isn't so great when it comes to athletes.

Even Colin Jackson's camp enthusiasm for everything (including the fat lads

throwing a big ball on a wire) failed to muster anything like quality sporting action.

Hazel Irvine and her fantastic array of coloured leather jackets and Sally Gunnell's "work experience at the BBC" interview technique only added to the yawn

factor.

Those with sense will stick to the fabulous Mark Nicholas, Geoff Boycott, Richie Benaud and Simon "The Analyst" Hughes over on Channel 4.

Property, property,

property. Location, location, location. Boring, boring,

boring?

Best and Worst Places to Live in the UK (Channel 4, Tuesday, 8pm) saw the "comedy" double act that is Phil Spencer and Kirstie Allsop take a look at some of the nation's worst (and best) places to set up home.

The duo found themselves in such crack-riddled towns as Salford, Mansfield and the capital of gun crime, Nottingham.

In between the smashed windows, chavs mooning cameras and shoppers in bullet-proof vests, though, Kirstie seemed more preoccupied with whether she could buy some more pointy shoes or not. On your salary, love, I doubt it.

Phil, meanwhile, spent most of the hour-long show droning on about how great Kent is and how bad Hackney (and its canal) clearly is. You don't say, Phil.

Stating, stating, stating, the, the, the, obvious, obvious, obvious.

As you read this, there will only be about six hours until the remaining Big Brother (Channel 4, all week) contestants walk back into society, most of them to taunts, beatings and, subsequently, drying-out clinics.

It's been a weird one this year and I can't quite decide if that's good or bad.

Unlike other years where two or three real stars have stood out from all the rest (Brian, Kate and, in my

opinion, Bubble), this year has only one: Camp crimper Craig - and you went and voted him out. You should all be ashamed of yourselves.

His sweat-inducing pursuit of Geordie Anthony reached Benny Hill proportions (in more ways than one) and kept the UK entertained for nigh-on three months.

But Anthony himself should not go without credit, either.

Only he could come out with the statement that Maxwell has more experience of gays "because he worked in Topshop" and get away with it. Superb.