Thursday night thrills on BBC2

TV scheduling is a beautiful thing - with just the simplest of decision as to what shows appear next to each-other one night, an evening's entertainment can become so much more than just a handful of good TV shows; it can reach heights of true greatness.

The Shadow Line/Psychoville billing on Thursdays on BBC2 at the moment is one such moment of inspired greatness. Who would have thought a heavy hitting crime drama and a hyper-surreal comedy would go together so well? But they do.

In both cases, it's all proper edge of the seat stuff - the kind of wonderful, delicious tension that only the very best of television can create. In the case of The Shadow Line, we're treated to an incredibly slick thriller full of twists and turns as well as characters that are as fractured and mysterious as they are utterly charming.

And the same could be said for Psychoville - for a show that manages to kill a character off every episode, it never feels cheap and we genuinely mourn for each and every kill. With their wonderfully individual quirks, each persona stamps themselves on our consciousness. What I love best about these two shows standing side by side though is that as unlikely as it might at first seem, we could just as easily imagine someone like The Shadow Line's Gatehouse cropping up in Psychoville.

Because for all The Shadow Line's serious tone, what elevates it above other crime dramas is its notion of character - these are not just cookie-cutter cops and criminals, these are people. Admittedly, not people you'd ever want to meet on a dark night down an alley, but people all the same - each one with their own secrets.

This week's episode of The Shadow Line saw the character of Glickman finally introduced - everything off on a complete tangent, half the episode dedicated to a new location and new character. But by the end, we were hanging off every line of dialogue, every slight of hand and movement, up to the literally explosive finale. And it was in this that we saw Glickman and Gatehouse for who they truly are - these almost quasi-immortal characters - equals in deviousness and treachery, battling each-other in their own little world.

When Glickman talked of getting the balance of the explosive right to ensure it killed Gatehouse yet would spare his life, you realised the self-destructive nature of their relationship. And even this, a blast that gutted the shop, resulted in merely a few scratches on both men. And as they backed off from each-other, Gatehouse holding a garotte, Glickman a blow-torch, you could only shudder at their raw power.

And as for Psychoville, what I love most about it is that it functions equally well as both a drama and a comedy. So often shows of its ilk feel more like a hastily cobbled together selection of individual sketches, but this has real substance, a sense of continuing story and all the dramatical weight that comes with that.

There's a beautiful sense of English suburbia to it all. Every part of it is just so quaint, right down to the wonderfully camp owner of the Hoity Toity toy shop. All the more shocking then when he was revealed to be a Nazi in disguise.

I'm going to miss these nights and these shows when they're finished. And that is what truly great telly is about - the memories that stay with you, the moments you remember... those magical, spell-binding moments.

Vera - The Crow Trap

If The Shadow Line represents the current glossy urban edge of contemporary crime drama on the TV at the moment, with Exile standing as a siphon in between, then Vera represents the far reaches of crime drama 'going rural'.

With its Geordie accents and what seems like a perpetual tone of grey washed across the entire show, Vera is a thriller with a difference. It has brains, for sure, but it also has heart - though you wouldn't expect anything else from a show where the lead character drives a battered fifty year old Land Rover. It's this rustic, grim feel that defines Vera - both show and character.

Vera, played by the delightful Brenda Blethyn, is no maverick London city slicker copper. In many ways, you almost forget she is in fact a member of the law. Because she's more than that, she's a person, and this is a drama defined by persona.

Maybe it's those Geordie accents, so open and telling, or maybe it's the bleak, rainy moors of Northumbria; but there's something here that makes you just want to pour every inch of your heart into this show and immerse yourself in the richness that has clearly been lavished on its creation.

This isn't an expensive looking show, but it wears its apparel well - it feels genuine, believable - yet also tinged with a vague hint of the fantastical too. And it was this sense that was emphasised in the latest episode, The Crow Trap. The plot hinging around a quarry encroaching on old, sacred land; this story felt heaped in mystery of more than one kind.

As you'd expect from any ITV thriller, there were twists and red herrings aplenty, but there were also those achingly beautiful shots of the haunting countryside stretching away into the distance too. There were the chilling cries of crows, bringing with them the morbid tang of death.

Atmosphere. Vera is drenched in it. And standing in a two hour slot as the show does, it's given the luxury of being able to develop that atmosphere at its own pace. That extended time slot is required; without it you feel the show would struggle to establish itself either way - the pacing would collapse in a rush to satisfy both the show's plot and it's look.

Instead, we have something that we sit down to and can properly grow with - as Vera uncovers an ever increasing share of clues, we find ourselves frantically searching for our own solutions to the murder. But of course, she gets there first. Because that's who Vera is. And she's very, very good.