Storyville: Sex On Screen (BBC Four) sounded very exciting, with contributions from Jane Fonda, Roseanna Arquette and Rose McGowan, but it left you unsatisfied.

The history element was interesting. We were told the 1930s were the heyday for sexy women in cinema, but it had been downhill ever since, with women ending up as passive screen candy with no desires or initiative of their own. Then there was an exploration of what goes on behind the scenes, or what did go on before MeToo.

“They called it Bikini Day,” remembered McGowan. Aspiring young actresses were told to turn up in bikinis; the male executives came into the studio to have a good gawp. Like most of the shocking assumptions examined here, Bikini Day was a simple idea that was never publicly discussed.

Blaxploitation movies were also explored, and they were not necessarily a bad thing. As Gloria Hendry put it, how many love scenes had you seen between black people before those films? “None.”

Hendry also played Rosie Carver, James Bond’s first black lover. She was killed off because — as Hendry explained — no black girl could expect a happy-ever-after with the lovely 007.

This was a programme that should have been a series. The abuse and exploitation were taken for granted by all the participants in Sex On Screen, but not really explored. Although it was interesting to hear that Jane Fonda thought it best to get drunk before filming large chunks of Barbarella (she was married to the director, Roger Vadim).

The programme put a lot of store in the introduction on a new phenomenon, the intimacy co-ordinator, although how powerful they will be remains to be seen — or not seen, by the public at least.

It was much more interesting when it looked at the influence that screen sex has on young people. It shapes how they think sex should be, and sex on screen is a poor representation of what it’s like in real life. “I think it really does damage to girls in particular, and that bothers me,” said Fonda.

The most fascinating bit came at the end, when it looked at new television series that are written by women and explore sex from a woman’s perspective. I could have done with a whole programme on these new shows alone. As it was, Sex On Screen was a hard slog.

It’s too soon to tell about The Dry (RTÉ One). It’s a sound idea — trying to stay sober in a country awash with alcohol — and it has a good cast. It’s a solid family drama about a family that is anything but solid.

Sex and, refreshingly, money, are licking at the walls of the desirable family home. Roisin Gallagher plays Shiv, who has come home from London to pursue her sobriety surrounded by her loved ones — and also because she’s broke.

The most vivid character is Karen (Janet Moran), Shiv’s no-nonsense and self-appointed sponsor in Alcoholics Anonymous. It is Karen who’s stripping Shiv of her illusions whenever they meet, while Shiv’s family are doing the same thing all the time, without realising it.

This is not laugh-out-loud funny (yet) but instead an observational comedy. Dubliners will wonder about the locations — was that the church hall in Glasthule? — and end up recognising a whole lot else besides. The Dry was worth it just for the scene at the bar in the airport, and the self-righteous Dub downing two pints at 9am.

There are no early morning pints with the Mormons, obviously. The Mormons are Coming (BBC Two) is a two-parter about the 800 young missionaries who come to the Mormon Centre in Chorley, near Manchester, for training. Chorley! Who knew?

We all know that Mormons aren’t allowed tea/coffee/alcohol/pre-marital sex, but during their training the young missionaries aren’t even allowed to hold a child. This is just one peculiar detail brought to us by this programme. Another was the Mormons’ enthusiastic embrace of online culture. The missionaries are required to send 50 online messages per day as part of their drive to convert the ungodly.

Poor Sister Cooper — aka Rebekah, a name that is suspended during her mission time — struggles with this. She’s a bit of a sweetheart, actually, and her family, originally from South Africa, are split on the Church of the Latter Day Saints. Both her mother and her brother have left it, which means — according to the Mormons — her parents will not be united in Paradise. Which seems harsh, although it is exactly what more conventional churches preached until recently.

On the one hand there’s all that Facebooking for new souls, and the fact that they have embraced the satirical musical The Book of Mormon — potentially a public relations Armageddon — to such an extent that they preach outside performances of it. “Would you like to read the real Book of Mormon?” the missionaries ask the crowds outside the theatres.

On the other hand there is, of course, sex. Here the Mormons are pretty unreconstructed. Which is why we saw Joe and Ashlynn getting married at 22. Before the wedding we visited them in their very nice new house.

Was that a love bite on Joe’s neck? “It definitely is,” said Ashlynn firmly. Which kind of gave you faith in the two of them. Even the Mormons can’t control desire, and some of them, at least, are honest about it.