Style, in one definition, is a function of what you can’t do. What happens, then, in an established show when you start trying to do the things you’ve avoided until now? Yesterday, that show was The Royle Family, and what raised the question was the avant garde decision to have the episode set in two locations, with time between scenes, rather than have an uninterrupted view of life in the Royle family living room.

Thankfully the upset was minimal, and the moves were, as they say in the trade, dramatically motivated, specifically by the desire of daughter Denise (co-writer and director Caroline Aherne) to have the family round for Christmas with her and divvy husband David. It worked just fine, but let’s hope this doesn’t set a precedent, or next thing you know the Royles will be venturing outside, and being script edited so that each piece of dialogue has to move the action on, and that just wouldn’t do.

The joy of The Royle Family is in naturalistic writing allied to performances that verge on the surreal, though they too are rooted in credible behaviour. Dad Jim Royle, as portrayed by Ricky Tomlinson, seems to be developing a real angry streak, mostly expressed non-verbally to his driving gloved brother-in-law David Sr, played by Tom Courtenay. The latter is a rhubarb wine making bastard who isn’t seen for a while because ‘he’s parallel parking the Mondeo’, and has come to terms with the fact that the men in his family come from a long line of bed wetters.

Denise wants Christmas to be like she sees it on Nigella, but lacking la Lawson’s pulchritude and lobster tongs tries to make do with a turkey the size of a labrador and starters of cup-a-soup for all. That would include Twiggy, fresh out of prison, where he’s had the chance to catch up with his son, and one of six people promised a turkey leg for dinner. Big it may be, but that turkey only has two legs. Having failed to defrost it even after putting it under the sunbed, Denise is left with a Christmas catastrophe that she tries to resolve by offering her guests crushed carrots and gravy. She got the recipe for the latter from her mother: take the cube out the foil, add hot water, and stir.

As ever, it’s Barbara (Sue Johnston) who comes out of the proceedings with her dignity intact. If we spent much more time with the Royles, you’d start to ask questions about the way the family ticks, but it’s best to sit back and enjoy these one offs as the family themselves do, aware of the rumbling subtexts but content to enjoy moments like Jim getting his banjo out for a good old Christmas singsong.

That sequence was just one of the ways The Royle Family felt more emotionally honest and less saccharine than Gavin & Stacey, which — last time I checked — had a combination karaoke and linedance to convey working class people enjoying themselves, a subject about which I made by feelings clear when it was raised in the dismal Sunshine. How about a 2009 armistice on any karaoke scenes, please?