Well, this writer has never bought into convention – hence, it’s kind of gone the opposite way. You see, as far as comic books and superheroes go, I’d gone my life leaving anything to do with them in truly mint condition. I’ve regrettably succumbed to a summer blockbuster here and there, but otherwise the world of capes and crusaders sits somewhere between vasectomies and bagpipes on my list of things from which I couldn’t possibly derive pleasure.

Hence the surprise that, since shacking up with The Nerd Of Norway, I found myself unknowingly drawn into the Marvel Universe by virtue of their steady stream of Netflix series. Daredevil is eminently watchable, if deeply flawed, but Jessica Jones was a real triumph. It’s a series built around humanity, with the fantastic as a sideline rather than a centrepiece. Fitting, then, that the reappearance of Jessica’s bestie Luke Cage would represent the finest chapter in the story so far.

Cage is obviously not a new character, but his fresh incarnation is the hero we’ve been waiting for, as a combination of coincidental timing and skillful tweaks to the source material have created a thoroughly modern leading man. Blessed with unbreakable skin – great for all occasions apart from when it’s time for his flu shot – the titular behemoth is a bullet-proof black man in trigger-happy Harlem. A ’70s vibe may occasionally peep through, but this is unmistakably a series of the now.

As real life superheroes go – for journalists at least – Louis Theroux is up there with the best, and while his forthcoming big-screen skewering of Scientology might be grabbing the headlines, his latest BBC outing was among the most remarkable of his sterling filmmaking life. Sixteen years after his groundbreaking When Louis Met Jimmy, he revisited the story of one of his most absorbing – and, we now know, abhorrent – subjects in Louis Theroux: Savile (BBC Two).

There is, undeniably, a morbid fascination surrounding the horrific revelations since the death of the once venerated broadcaster and philanthropist, but Theroux predictably cuts through many of the gory details to find the distinctly human element he has specialised in revealing throughout his career. That’s not to say the horror is swept under the carpet – the testimony of victims is nothing short of harrowing – but it’s when exploring how those indirectly affected have dealt with stories of the monstrous crimes that this documentary is at its most powerful.

Janet, a longtime assistant of Savile, lives in complete denial. Since he was the man to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day, large parts of her entire life would crumble were her unsullied perception to change. More interesting still was Sylvia, who worked with Savile at a hospital which both benefited greatly from his charitable endeavours and provided a hunting ground for his predatory behaviour. She betrays a torturous tug-of-war between the facts learned in the past few years and the happy memories going back decades – she still has a photo of Savile on her dresser, but tucked away from open view.

And then, there’s Louis. Without ever placing himself in the centre of proceedings, the driving force behind the show is Theroux’s own quest to reconcile the grim reality with a man he once considered a friend, as he considers how he was duped by such a despicable monster. It’s arresting, challenging, engrossing and enlightening viewing – Louis at his very best.