If one of the measures of a good documentary is to keep you watching something in which you have no interest, then Jig: The Great Irish Dance-Off (BBC2) was a triumph. All the more so because it didn't leave me with a single regret that I've never seen Riverdance. Me and Irish dancing are just not meant to be, I guess.
And yet for the 90 minutes of the film, I was hooked. For this wasn't really a film about the Irish dancing world championships so much as one about obsession; here were people from all over the world – who would have thought there were Russian Irish dancers? – who had dedicated huge amounts of time, energy and money to a fundamentally pointless pursuit. Something I understand only too well.
Even I have my limits, though, and dodgy wigs, gallons of hairspray and brightly-coloured sequins are a definite no-go area. But one of this film's charms was that it took no prisoners. No one felt the need to apologise for doing something so uncool: better still, no one bothered to explain. None of the dancers felt they were doing anything abnormal. And while it was initially quite frustrating not to find out how any of the dancers, many of whom had no Irish connection, became so passionate about it, by halfway through the programme the lack of engagement in this debate became a defiant celebration. You either got it or you didn't. This was their world, where their rules applied. It was the rest of the world that was out of kilter, not them.
Sean Foggett is also a man with an obsession; one that shows every sign of getting him into a lot more trouble than if he had taken up Irish dancing. Sean is mad about crocodiles and wants to collect all 23 species of them. If he had left it at that then he would probably have been fine. As it is, he has chosen to give up his job, sell his house and move his wife and kids in with his brother's family to set up his own crocodile attraction in an industrial park just outside Witney in Oxfordshire.
Croc Man (Channel 5) is best viewed from behind the sofa. Not because the crocs are so scary, but because watching the iron-grip of Sean's self-delusion tightening by the second is X-rated stuff. "Here's the gift shop," says Sean, showing the cameraman around. "No, it isn't, you moron," I wanted to shout. "It's a few wonky shelves with some crisps on them." Sean then took us round the croc pens which looked like large shower trays painted green. "Of course, we'll need paying visitors to make the whole thing work." Well spotted, Sean. So even if you think you can get the necessary numbers out to your lock-up, why didn't you bother to get a proper licence first? Even I can work out that being restricted to four open days a year is the kiss of death for any business.
Though even getting a full house for one of the four days was proving a bit of a problem: Sean had pre-sold 50 out of a possible 400 tickets. This might have seemed like a good time for a spot of intense local marketing; for Sean it was the ideal moment to nip down to the south of France to visit a well-established crocodile attraction.
So thrilled was he at being given a few baby Nile crocs that, understandably, no one else wanted, Sean didn't seem to notice any difference between the vast, elegantly landscaped French croc farm and his own rather more haphazard enterprise. It was only when he got home that he realised his new crocs would have completely outgrown his enclosure within a year. A bite from an American alligator would be a lot less painful than watching this.
For the joy of hubris, Country House Rescue (Channel 4) was unbeatable. A couple of years ago, Ted and Sarah had completely ignored many of design guru Ruth Watson's suggestions for the restoration of Pentillie castle in Cornwall. Given that her own dress sense is an acquired taste, I hadn't blamed Ted and Sarah, but Watson had tut-tutted heavily. So I imagine part of her desire to return – apart from making cheap TV – was to see just how much Ted and Sarah had cocked things up. But the business was thriving, with visitor numbers exceeding even the highest predictions. The castle looked lovely. Maybe Sean should call in Ted and Sarah.