Synchronicity: a coincidence of events that seem to be meaningfully related.

Swiss psychologist Carl Jung was the first man on earth to utter the term and define its meaning.

He believed there was no such thing as a non-meaningful coincidence, but that all events and experiences – minor or major – were somehow linked in a collective consciousness way.

And, no, you have not stumbled upon some online armchair psychology forum. There are no stiff-backed armchairs here; we are all about the soft and cozy couch, potatoes that we are.

And in fact, the first three sentences above are actually related to television. But you knew that already, because Carl Jung says everything is related, right? Right.

Time for a big fat ANYWAY… let’s discuss – or rather, I’ll talk and you listen – about Sinchronicity (SBS, Mondays 10pm).

While we are having fun going off on tangents, I must make mention of the fact that the title is misspelt. Why? (Y, indeed.) No idea. Any clues gratefully received.

This is a six-part British series set in Manchester and is essentially about a love triangle between Nath (Paul Chequer), Jase (Daniel Percival) and Jase’s girlfriend Fi (Jemima Rooper).

Funky, half-formed first names aside, the three are a likeable lot in their 30s who have barbies in the rain, fun at parties, a voddy or three on a Sat-ah-dy and generally get along like a flaming house.

The show's title is cleverly referenced in numerous flashback scenes shown from another character's perspective. So, an altercation in the background, seemingly meaningless at first, ends up being the stone plopped expertly in the chain of events pond, ready to ripple effect its way through the plot.

But you know where it’s going, don’t you? Two guys and one girl.

The third wheel funnyman has a thing for his mate’s missus. Course he does.

But, stifle that yawn. Resisting the temptation to drag all that sexual tension out, this forbidden pair actually threw some genuine sparks into the mix by doing the deed in the first episode.

And not only is Jase none the wiser about the shameful interlude, he is struggling to deal with an unexpected infidelity of his own: with a man.

Eek! Such drama in the first episode. That’s what you get when you have just six, hour-long episodes to sell your story.

This is a quality production written, shot and acted by people who know what they’re doing.

It is charming in a Richard Curtis (Four Weddings, Notting Hill, Bridget Jones) vein – but this is Hugh Grant with a drug habit and an explosive secret ... his Divine Brown period.

Among its only faults are the overuse of Nath’s addresses to camera and the perplexing inter-cutting of atmospheric shots clearly filmed on a Handicam.

I’m not quite sure what purpose they serve. Perhaps it’s art.

Or, at least, somehow related to art…

— REBECCA MARSHALL