Watched with almost 40 years’ hindsight, Comrade Dad sometimes feels like serious-minded satire.

There were other WW3-themed sitcoms from the time: Only Fools and Horses building a nuclear fallout shelter; or David Renwick’s apocalyptic farce, Whoops Apocalypse. Cold War paranoia was invading light entertainment.

“I don’t think we were suffering any paranoia,” laughs Ian Davidson. “Comrade Dad was a caprice, a foolishness, a confection – we weren’t making serious points.” 

Peter Vincent agrees: there was no political agenda. The real target, if indeed there was one, says Ian Davidson, was bureaucracy. In one episode, Reg discovers a hidden garden party, where bourgeoisie toffs are quaffing champers and scoffing smoked salmon. So unbelievable is the scene that Reg spends the rest of the episode thinking it must have been a dream. “I think we were just making the point that the rich are rich whatever happens,” says Peter Vincent. “That was certainly true in the war.” 

In a modern show, that might be a conspiracy to unravel; in Comrade Dad, it’s a strange detail that’s never resolved. The nature of sitcoms is that characters remain stuck in their situation.

Despite having no political agenda, Comrade Dad feels occasionally, perhaps accidentally profound. When Bob is being taught history from Party-approved books, his teacher toes the line: “If it’s not in the book, it’s not part of history.”

In one amusing detail, Reg reads from the Little Red Book of Chairman Hoskins – inspiration quotes for Party members to live by, such as: “The family that prays together ends up in a psychiatric hospital” – based on the Quotations from Chairman Mao book.