Kirstie’s Handmade Christmas; Invasion!; Finding Me a Family; David Jason’s Secret Service

“I wouldn’t say it has quite the attraction of mulled wine or carol singing but Kirstie’s Handmade Christmas has become a pleasant part of the holiday period. I think of it as being a bit like Bake Off but with Christmas tat instead of tarts.”
Matt Baylis, Daily Express

“What an inspiration it all was. You can enjoy a Kirstie Christmas just like hers, with nothing but a printing press, a pottery kiln and a few bronze ingots.”
Christopher Stevens, Daily Mail

“First, diorama baubles for the Christmas tree. No, Kirstie, I’m not going to do that. Because I don’t have a box of gubbins like you do, or the time. Because I’m not seven, watching Blue Peter, in the 1970s. And, mainly, because they’re rubbish.”
Sam Wollaston, The Guardian

“The programme was a bit like a straight-history alternative to Stewart Lee’s well-YouTubed takedown of Ukip rhetoric. It was also one of those documentaries where, in absence of any sexiness to the history, the presenter has to put in a double helping of eagerness to make it fly. Not a problem for Willis, who likes to get stuck in like a health-and-safety John Noakes.”
James Jackson, The Times

“There’s no real reason why Britain, or the place we call Britain now, should be more or less invaded than any other place. There’s also no real reason why Dr Sam had to keep banging on about it unless perhaps he, or the BBC, thought we were all daft racists. It led, in the first instalment, to some sloppy explaining, especially when it came to the spread of agriculture.”
Matt Baylis, Daily Express

“The documentary is fair and objective, and acknowledges both the success and the controversy of events such as these. Even the title is calm and unsensational. Find Me a Family would have sounded better, but it also sounds like a desperate appeal; Finding Me a Family is just what everyone is trying really hard to do.”
Sam Wollaston, The Guardian

“What a premise for a documentary, although if you were hoping for a ripping yarn of Edwardian sex in tweeds, and martinis sipped under handlebar moustaches, David Jason’s Secret Service may have disappointed.”
James Jackson, The Times