The vicar of Little Wallop is a simple man. With his two kids and beautiful wife, he cruises through life concentrating more on the next sermon or speech rather than his son’s school bullies or daughter's numerous boyfriends.

Unfortunately for his wife Gloria, she doesn’t have the option of sticking her head in the sand.

Sick of a sexless marriage and the incessant barking of the neighbour’s dog, she finds solace in the arms of an American golfing instructor so sleazy he’d have trouble be taken seriously in Soho.

Little does she know, she is the daughter of a rather famous single mum – one who took an axe to the limbs of her husband and his lover 43 years earlier.

And when that mother comes to visit shortly after her long-term release – under the guise of being the family’s new housekeeper - Gloria’s life begins to improve – as the body count rises.

While the plot is somewhat far-fetched, the manner in which it is played out allows the audience to jump into this idyllic little countryside village and enjoy the richly layered characters that lurk within.

An inconsistent script is delivered with utmost care by a cast that clearly has chemistry, and largely plays against type to good effect - from Scott-Thomas’ put upon every-mother to Maggie Smith’s psychopathic old lady, but it’s Rowan Atkinson whose performance is by far the most subtle.

The faults, however, are numerous. The double entendres are sometimes heavy handed and obvious, and the comedy is occasionally a little too black.

Most importantly, you root for the right people, and in the absence of anything like a bad-guy (despite being on fine form, Swayze’s Lance is far too caricatured to be deemed a bad guy) that’s some feat.

Occasionally a little sicker than it ought to be, and slightly lost at the beginning of the second act, this is till one of the better Brit comedies to turn up of late.

Rich Phippen