Brilliant and brilliantly stupid, Traitors will have you hooked

Listen up, gals. Headmistress Keeley has some brisk advice for dealing with those dreadful men and their wandering hands: ‘Pull yourself together. tears are so weak. if he grabs at you, just slap him.’

it would take a bold groper to pinch Keeley Hawes’s bottom in Traitors (C4), a Forties spy drama that sees her as queen of the Cabinet Office secretaries, Miss Priscilla Garrick.

that’s Miss, not Ms. ‘i am not married and nor do i expect to marry in the near future,’ she barked at a male civil servant, who scurried for cover behind a desk.

Miss Garrick wears a doublebreasted jacket and keeps a cat on her desk. Marriage ‘in the near future’ is definitely off the cards.

the chief flaw of this frequently delirious serial is that her character had only two real scenes.

We saw her deliver a rousing speech to the ladies of the typing pool, and then blush in a teashop as our heroine, posh Feef symonds (emma Appleton), indulged in some manipulative flirtation.

Feef, who was having affairs last week with any man who came in range, has calmed down a bit, all the better to get on with spying for the Americans.

But her handler, the deranged Rowe (Michael stuhlbarg), was just getting warmed up. Murdering fellow agents, chucking their bodies in the thames, bribing MPs, burbling about Communism all around Westminster — he could not have drawn more attention to himself if he had run naked down Pall Mall waving the stars and stripes while firing a machine-gun.

naturally the Brits are happy to share all their top- secret information with him. He’s on our side, doncha know?

this is no more than mildly silly, compared with the wartime flashbacks. We learned that Labour MP Hugh, gamely played by Luke treadaway, was converted to socialism while serving with the Desert Rats.

After stumbling on the pyramids while out for a picnic with his best friend, brave Hugh felt inspired to change the world. But calamity — his pal was chomped by a cobra. ‘tell my mum it was a nazi, she’ll feel better that way,’ gasped the poor tommy as he died. i nearly did, too, laughing.

there has not been a costume drama that teetered on the brink of self-parody so wildly since the horses-and-cads romp Flambards, and that was 40 years ago. One minute it’s brilliant, the next it’s brilliantly stupid. either way, you won’t stop me watching.

there is great play made of the word ‘traitors’ in icelandic police drama Trapped (BBC4), which is airing in double episodes.

With so much first- rate crime on offer at weekends, it would be easy to miss this one, but fans of traditional scandinavian murder fare should seek it out on iPlayer.

We get racist farmers flying the Confederate flag, sulky teens stirring up deadly trouble after skipping school and, of course, no end of kidnappings and bodies in the barn.

Meanwhile, every wooden home harbours a lifetime of secrets. trapped stars Olafur Darri Olafsson as portly detective Andri, this time battling terrorists and earthquakes rather than people traffickers and avalanches.

Fans of the superb original series in 2016 will be delighted to see ilmur Kristjansdottir return as quirky Hinrika, the tiny but relentless small town policewoman with her needy, hippie husband still stoned out of his mind by breakfast.

And here’s a useful tip: if you are taken hostage in iceland, never ask for water to wash your face. especially if you have just had your hair done.

Watch it, and find out what i mean . . .