TV Preview: Louis Theroux Extreme Love - Autism D espite being nearly a decade into what we might reasonably describe as his mature period, Louis Theroux will probably be forever identified with his earlier, funnier films. But while he's no longer interested in spending time with gay neo-Nazis and faded celebrities, he can still be relied upon to produce some of TV's more intimate and insightful documentaries. A case in point is LOUIS THEROUX: EXTREME LOVE - AUTISM, the first of two films in which he visits American families coping with neural and cognitive disorders (next week: dementia). His trademark approach of asking bluntly wide-eyed questions - "This might sound like a weird question, but does [your child's autism] make you love them less?" - is put to good use here, as he once again adopts the role of a concerned observer navigating his way through sensitive territory. Since autism is often associated with a lack of interest in other people, Louis - who is nothing if not fascinated by other people - has a hard time getting through to some of the kids. But his conversations with their long-suffering parents are revealing and commendably frank. Paula, who has twins with severe autism, admits that she doesn't get a lot of enjoyment from them. Watching them erupt into screaming tantrums at the slightest provocation, it's impossible to judge her harshly. Her husband is later moved to tears as he describes the endless pressures of raising autistic children, while Paula laments that they'll never have the kind of life enjoyed by typical kids. Elsewhere Louis encounters distressing and uncomfortable scenes of a particularly disruptive teenager being restrained by his parents and teachers, although his mother is quick to point out that she wants us to witness how exhausting such episodes can be. This is typical of Louis" later films. They never offer easy answers - how could they in cases such as this? - but they do provide a thoughtful glimpse into the everyday lives of people struggling under extraordinary circumstances. Interested in exploring autism across its varied spectrum, he also befriends a bright and anxious teenager on the verge of enrolling at a mainstream school, and talks to a woman who had no choice but to place her son in shared accommodation when he became too violent to live with. The programme is full of such moments, where parents open up about, not only being physically afraid of their children, but also their fears about their future. Louis asks if it's possible for these families to avoid being defined by the autism in their midst, and it certainly appears to be an all-consuming issue (although it would, obviously, in a documentary focused solely on that issue). But there are also glimmers of humour and hope during some of his encounters, not least during a visit to a New Jersey school for autistic kids, where the curriculum focuses on social interaction and teaching basic life-skills. Although not remotely sentimental, it's a saddening film in many ways. But you'll doubtless emerge from it with tremendous admiration for the adults who care for these children to the best of their abilities. And now, comedy! Simon Amstell's dysfunctional family sitcom, GRANDMA'S HOUSE, returns for another run of gently serrated farce, in which the lapsed tormentor of pop buffoons plays an undisguised version of himself struggling to escape from his abrasive public image. Last time he was trying to achieve something more meaningful with his life and craft - in reality, of course, he made Grandma's House - and as we reconvene he's finally been given a self-penned TV pilot. Which sounds a lot like Grandma's House. His proudly forthright Jewish mother - played by the great Rebecca Front - is naturally delighted, especially since Simon's career slump means he now lives in grandma's box room. "I can feel the shame lifting, can you?" she beams. Like a more populous variation on Roger and Val Have Just Got In, each episode unfolds entirely within the titular abode, with the intensely self-aware Simon a perpetually mortified victim of his family's eccentricity. As before it's all very likeable, witty and controlled and Amstell has thankfully improved as an actor following a painfully self-conscious start during the first series. Indeed, they've developed his shortcomings into a running gag within the show itself - episode one is titled "The day Simon officially became a very good and totally employable actor." The death of actor Geoffrey Hutchings, who played Simon's granddad in the first series, is deftly handled (you won't find overbearing schmaltz in this show), with his absence quietly underpinning an otherwise typically chucklesome episode in which our discomfited protagonist deals with the fall-out from a one night stand and fails to mend a possibly symbolic leak. If I have a criticism it's that Samantha Spiro as Simon's embittered aunt is still too broad at times, although James Smith - coincidentally Front's co-star in The Thick Of It - continues to judge his performance perfectly as mum's hopeless ex-fiancée. Also, apropos motherly concern, a brief topless scene reveals that Amstell has the body of an emaciated alien. Eat, man, eat! Louis Theroux Extreme Love - Autism Thursday, BBC2, 9pm Thursday, BBC2, 10pm