STAND down eco detectives; I’ve found the culprits responsible for the hole in the ozone layer. It was women wrestlers of the 1980s, the golden ladies of wrestling whose exploits are charted in Glow (Netflix). If you haven’t seen Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch’s deliciously subversive comedy drama, now is the time to get it in a Half Nelson.

The tricky second series has now landed on Netflix, and as with all follow-ups, the question was whether the sly mix of laughs, LA sleaze, and feminism would continue to work its magic. Happily, Sam the director is still drinking vodka in his car at 9am, Ruth remains annoyingly perky to the point of making Cheers’ Diane look laid back; and Debbie the wronged wife continues to wear the entire contents of a make-up counter on her face.

Glow’s favourite move is to lull the viewer into thinking they are watching a straightforward, all girls together piece of silliness in leotards before sneaking up and inflicting a wedgie. Sexism, racism, infidelity: the writers haven’t met a tough subject yet they did not want to wrestle with in an amusing telling way. A treat.

Rich Hall’s Working for the American Dream (BBC4, Wednesday, 9pm) also had as its subject the working stiff born in the USA. The Boss (as in Springsteen) was inevitably name-checked as the comedian raced through the history of labour in America, from the Mayflower to The Donald.

There was nothing here the audience would not have known already, and Hall should have done more on the allure of Trump to the America that feels abandoned by Washington. But Hall has been perfecting his brand of grizzled sarcasm for some years now and in these series of films about his homeland he has, well, come home. Cometh the hour, cometh the curmudgeon.

“America has a class system,” he said. “It’s very simple. If you go to work and your name is on the outside of the building you’re rich. If your name is on your desk you’re middle class. And if your name is on your shirt you’re ******* poor.”He ended with the depressing statistic that 70% of Americans hated their jobs. As one of the most perceptive commentators on America today, one does hope Hall’s job is safe at BBC4.

Today at Wimbledon (BBC2, nightly) must be a nice gig to have, particularly since the producers did away with all that new-fangled nonsense of commentators sitting on bar stools with the audience standing around like rubberneckers at the scene of an accident. Clare Balding, whose omnipresence on television is beginning to give God and Piers Morgan a run for their money, is the host, welcoming back champions John McEnroe, Tracy Austin, and many another big name.

No imagination has been expended or expense spared on the set, which is back to being a table, three chairs, and a bowl of tennis balls (when oh when is someone going to use these to demonstrate their juggling skills?). Mind you, the setting is daringly alfresco, and as the wind got up Tracy and Clare’s hair moved fetchingly in the breeze. John, alas, did not have enough hair to whip up, but please don’t tell him I said so. The only concession to modernity was the slot reserved for “social of the day”, by which they meant the funniest tweet and not some drinks party round at the Wimbledon home of Camilla’s, Lucy’s, or AN Other posh young thing.

The documentary 24 Hours in Police Custody (Channel 4, Monday, 9pm) ought to be compulsory viewing for any new recruits to the force. This week the programme followed detectives dealing with a 12-year-old girl newly arrived at Luton Airport from Bulgaria. Travelling with a man she did not know, police feared she was being trafficked to work as a prostitute but where was the evidence? As ever, the clock was ticking. Week after week, 24 Hours shows not just the ever increasing demands on police, but the need to question everything, assumptions most of all.

A confession: I have taken to saving up Mortimer and Whitehouse: Gone Fishing (BBC2, Wednesday, 9pm) to watch later on iPlayer. Soothing, funny and poignant, it has become essential viewing in a “break glass in case of emergency” kind of way. Episode two found the comedians trying to catch barbel and talking about death with a vicar called Jane. “You sound like a Marxist,” said Paul Whitehouse after she said religion had used fear of hell as a management tool. “What’s wrong with Marxism?” she shot back. “Not a lot,” conceded Whitehouse.

The episode ended with Bob running half naked into a hot tub. Heaven, or hell, could wait.