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Max factor

Midnight Man (ITV1, 9pm); Come Dine With Me (C4, 8pm)

LIKE policemen and private eyes on television, fictional journalists come complete with a set of quirks, doubts and a troubled personal life. Max Raban, anti-hero of three-part thriller, Midnight Man, ticks all the boxes as a maverick journalist.

He's out of work, having cost his newspaper employers a lot of money over a disputed story. His wife's left him, taking his young daughter with her. He lives on Pot Noodles.

And to make matters worse, he has a phobia - a fear of going out in daylight. Hence his name, Midnight Man.

But unlike that other night person Dracula, he doesn't sleep in a coffin and, as he's played by James Nesbitt, he possesses a certain charm despite a silly hat, chin stubble and dirty mac.

Most nights you'll find him going through people's rubbish in search of juicy titbits of information about their personal lives and habits.

Any useful stuff is peddled to his old boss, the sort of newspaper man who has nothing better to do than sit around waiting for a disgraced reporter to ring with far-fetched stories.

Max strikes lucky - if rooting through other people's rubbish can ever be considered to have an element of luck - when he's asked to dig the dirt on a defence secretary having an affair with an erotic dancer.

Among the minister's trash, he finds a fax referring to a headless body. He ties this in with the discovery of a corpse in this condition.

He may come to regret making the connection because he's stumbled across that favourite of modern thrillers, the government conspiracy.

Could there really be a death squad going around eliminating people who hold views at odds with the establishment? Does that nice Reece Dinsdale mean it when he barks "Kill her" down the phone when Max hesitates to do as he's told?

Like Raban himself, David Kane's thriller is treading familiar territory with conspiracy theories and government cover-ups. This is a world where men in balaclavas bundle innocent folk into the back of vans and shoot them in the head - and that's only for not paying the TV licence.

How long, you wonder, before increasinglymad Max sees the light, both literally and figuratively?

It could be fun, in a blood-splattered way, finding out over the next two episodes.

MORE tears, tensions and disasters in the latest edition of Come Dine With Me, the programme in which four strangers cook three-course meals for each other and then award marks. The winner takes home £1,000.

Those responsible for the revised format of a single one-hour programme instead of five SCRIBE AND PHARISEES: James Nesbitt plays Max Raban, a journalist who stumbles on a government conspiracy scandal TWO MINDS: Jonathan Race and Robert Pickavance in Patient No 1 half-hours have abandoned altogether the notion that this is a cooking programme and opted for the reality TV route of bringing together four people with the potential of rubbing each other up the wrong way.

Vegan Tony, a 68-year-old campaigner on vegetarian issues, is there to stir conversation in the dining room as well as in the pan in the kitchen.

His idea of conversation while eating is to recount how he became vegetarian at 50. He was shooting pigeons, winged one of the birds and had to kill it by hand.

The other three aren't put off their food, doing rather better than the chap last week who excused himself from the table after the first course to put his head down the toilet and throw up.

Energetic grandmother Jan drives the others crazy with her incessant talking on the first night. They can't get a word in edgeways, apart from complaining that "I don't like fish" on learning the main course is lemon sole.

Back at Tony's place, he's serving avocado and smoked tofu for starters. "Is there a taste," asks Nick, which I take as a bad thing to say and don't hold out much hope of Tony's wish to convert his diners to vegetarianism.

Fun-loving mum Sam isn't saying anything.

She has her hand over her mouth because she feels sick. Again, not a good omen.

The next night she looks queasy again when, after a discussion on food that makes your wee smell, Tony produces another nausea- inducing story about drinking something in Japan that resembled phelgm.

I was worried too by Jan's starter, ezogelin, which sounds more like a disease than a Turkish soup.

10:17am Thursday 8th May 2008

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