NEXT time some doomster starts burbling about the UK being on its last legs, tell them “nonsense,” or some variant thereof. Look at how television in this country functions as a job creation scheme for Gordon Ramsay and tell me we’re not taking back the remote control.

Last year that the BBC handed the Scotsman Gordon Ramsay’s Future Food Stars. ITV has given him a one-third share in his own travel show with Gordon, Gino and Fred’s Road Trip, and no late-night session on Channel 4 is complete without a Ramsay repeat. Now ITV has again come to rescue him from five seconds of inactivity with Next Level Chef (STV, Wednesday).

This promised to be a cooking competition like no other. Don't they all? In this case the USP was that it took place in three kitchens on different floors. The top one had the best of everything, the middle was middling, while the basement was Blackpool B&B circa 1967.

A dumbwaiter moved through the floors, giving and taking ingredients and dishes from the 12 contestants, a mix of home cooks, pros and social media. So part gameshow, part Ready Steady Cook, with a handful of MasterChef. First prize: £100k and the chance to be mentored by the judges, one of them Ramsay.

It was flashing lights, flying cameras and all action as the producers tried desperately to inject drama into the proceedings. OMG, Selwyn has grabbed too many ingredients! Oh no, where’s the ruddy tin opener? This carry on, plus the near constant whooping and bellowing of encouragement were clues, if you needed them, to the show’s American origins.

Will it catch on here? Doubt it. Too gimmicky and try hard for UK audiences. Get ready commissioning editors, Gordon might need another show soon.

Emilia Fox and Prof David Wilson returned as presenters of In the Footsteps of Killers (Channel 4, Thursday). This week they delved into the Templeton Woods murders.

His credentials were obvious, while her sharp observations showed she had earned her place and wasn’t there solely because she starred in Silent Witness (though that surely helped). They had some good “gets” as interviewees, and I have no doubt the pair mean well when they look again at unsolved cases.

But did the programme have to be quite so hammy? The tabloid title and relentless music, coupled with an overly earnest presenting style, made it tacky when it didn’t need to be.

Professor David Wilson: Day I met real man behind TV serial killer The Serpent

A toasty reception greeted the return of legal drama Crown Court (Talking Pictures, Monday, Thursday-Friday). Everybody of a certain age seemed to have a story about the afternoon legal drama that ran from the 1970s to the mid-1980s. One colleague recalled having to arrange shift breaks around what was must-see viewing.

Crown Court today looked and sounded its age, but that gave it a certain charm. As an exercise in concise storytelling it still held good.

The Kardashians: A Billion Dollar Dynasty (Channel 4, Sunday-Monday) was required viewing if, like me, you haven’t a clue who they are and what they do. One day they were just there, then they were everywhere, and as time went on it became embarrassing to ask for details.

This two-parter covered or uncovered it all, from Kim’s sex tape to marriages and divorces and all points between. As one commentator said, the Kardashians have never been shy in sharing information. One of the original reality show families, they laid out their lifestyle, or a version of it, for all to see, and people bought into it in every sense. Magazines with Kim on the cover sold in their millions. Everything they endorsed on social media turned to gold.

Well done to whoever chose Barbara Flynn to narrate. Hearing the heroine of The Beiderbecke Affair sound ever so slightly appalled was just what the documentary needed. Some of the journalist commentators on fame and the Kardashians sounded like minor celebrities themselves, half admiring of the phenomenon that is the Kardashians. “They’re like a weird American royal family,” said one. Suddenly it all made sense.

Harry: The Interview (ITV, Sunday) was yer actual royal circus for real. Tom Bradby, having been accused in the past of being too chummy with William and Harry, was fairly tough on his subject. Taking the tack of seeming faintly bewildered by it all, he just wanted Harry to be a good chap and set a few things straight.

The kid (he’s 38 but he’ll always be a kid to some of us) came across well, except for the occasions when he took exception to something and started to question the questioner. There’s a chip on that shoulder that could feed a family for a year.