Gird your loins once more, ladies and gents – after a glut of vampires and werewolves, for something to really get the blood pumping as the winter nights draw in. Or not.
Instead, we’ve a soapy drama with an empty, meaningless title using a well-known idiom - the BBC drama department convention which refuses to die. Lately, Lip Service, which follows a group of gay Glaswegians, the city depicted as a stylish neon metropolis, rather than the usual grimy urban hell. Despite the vaguely sexy word-association, Lip Service is that surprisingly ubiquitous creature; a series obsessed with sex that is hopelessly devoid of the erotic.