A CRACKING start to BBC1’s shiny new crime drama series.

But then, at 9.01pm, indie band Alt-J’s cool theme tune faded, the script kicked in and it all went pear-shaped.

The Interceptor, TV’s most hilarious show for all the wrong reasons.

It does at least have the right ingredients.

Kingpin druglord baddie? Check.

Shadowy crime-fighting organisation called UNIT (not the Doctor Who one)? Check.

Rogue hero with a troubled upbringing? Check, check, checkitty-check.

His name’s Ash, recruited from Customs, married to an apparently house-bound Jo Joyner.

And he’s a MAVERICK, “someone who takes crime personally,” shows two fingers to those pen-pushers at city hall and doesn’t play by their rules, no siree.

He pushes robbers through windows. He runs across canal barge roofs without even considering a health and safety assessment. He clicks a pen by bashing it against his forehead.

But most of all… tell us, Ash: “I want to take down the serious crims.”

The problem is, he’s the lousiest plain-clothes law enforcement operative in the history of terrible TV shows.

We’re three episodes in and he’s messed up, big time, every single week.

Ash, played by O-T Fagbenle (clearly an excellent actor unlucky enough to land the role), has a penchant for blowing his own cover.

He persistently draws attention to himself and receives almighty tellings-off from his superior, Cartwright, whose main concern is keeping a lid on UNIT’s existence and the government department it’s spongeing off.

Which is a bit rich, seeing as Cartwright goes around handing out business cards with his name, landline, mobile and emblazoned with “The Office of The Undercover Narcotics Investigation Team”.

(Shhh! Tell no one!)

Exactly why it’s being funded at all is a complete mystery.

UNIT is the lousiest law enforcement agency anywhere ever.

When Cartwright told Ash ahead of a surveillance operation: “If they clock you, you endanger everything we’ve achieved,” the response should have been: “Which is sweet FA.”

Before Ash and Customs partner Tommy joined UNIT, its whiteboard for clichéd clues and suspects’ photos was blank.

They hadn’t achieved a damn thing and were nowhere near snaring Mr Big target Roach (Trevor Eve) who, in ascending order from least to most terrifying: snarls, has people killed and wears a lemon tank-top on the golf course.

The Interceptor thinks it’s The Wire, using phone-tapping as its main weapon, but it’s more apt to call it The Dire.

Dire car chases, dire fight scenes, dire bad guys (armed robber holding the blunt side of a knife to a hostage’s throat), dire plots (building society manager applying online for a loan to pay a drug debt, only to discover it takes three working days).

And laughably dire dialogue: “There’s 100-grand worth of trouble and we’re in the middle!”

This exchange from episode one: “You blew his cover!”

“No, this is all down to you.”

“Yeah, you cover your own a**e.”

“You’ll answer for this.”

But it’s at its most funny when they’re tracking and losing sight of the drug dealers: “I’m blind. Ash, have you got eyes?” “I can’t see. There’s a bus in the way. I can’t get visual. Has anyone got eyes?”

Unfortunately for you, The Interceptor, yes. I have.

Spudulikes…

True Detective.

This Morning booking Hollywood great Stanley Tucci for the most This Morning thing imaginable — baking focaccia bread.

The subtitles changing Nikki Grahame’s Wimbledon anecdote on Big Brother from: “I went to the final. Federer and Nadal,” to: “I went to see a direct bus in no doubt,” which is arguably less impressive.

Strictly’s Ola Jordan on husband James, on ITVBe’s Seven Days With: “He was quite hot, when he was young.”

The One Show’s Matt Baker, seeing a Don’t Tell The Bride hubby struggling to carry his wife, all but calling her a chubber: “We’ve got a VERY strong groom.”

And Phillip Schofield telling Duncan Bannatyne showing off his new young girlfriend Nigora Whitehorn on This Morning: “Well done, you.” I wonder what first attracted her to the 66-year-old multi-millionaire?

Spuduhates…

Sam Bailey making the seamless transition from X Factor winner 2013 to Loose Women panellist 2015.

BBC1 trying to fix its diabolical weeknight schedule by promoting Don’t Tell The Bride from BBC3.

The dozen “programme associates” (writers), plus Jason Manford, making It’s A Funny Old Week simply It’s A Week.

Big Brother claiming it had “no other choice” but to warn Helen Wood for her unforgivable outburst that sent Brian Belo scaling the wall (“You look like a rapist, a murderer”) when it should have booted her out.

And James Jordan insisting on Seven Days With: “We’re not divas,” before adding of Strictly without him: “The show wasn’t as good. I was Strictly Come Dancing.” Whatever made you suspect we think you’re a diva, James?